


The Farm

by JamesJohnEye



Series: Things unattempted yet (in prose or rhyme) [5]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Past Rape/Non-con, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-01 02:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 57,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6496795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesJohnEye/pseuds/JamesJohnEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the shadows of Genesis still haunting the group, Rick leads them through the country side in search of a new home while Daryl tries to pick up the pieces and put their world back together again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Glass houses

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back. 
> 
> Let's get this show back on the road.
> 
> Warning; there are mentions of/references to and description of self-harm thoughs, suicidal thoughts, past rape/non-con throughout this story.

 

* * *

 

 

‘Everywhere on this day, the after-war continues, as eternally as war itself.’

David Finkel - _Thank you for your service_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Rick is leaning against the side of the house when Daryl joins him. Their boots scrape the brickwork, their shoulders almost brushing. Smoke curls up from Daryl’s hand and lips, a cigarette now in the corner of his mouth.

The world is made out of ink and shadows. The moon is silver in the sky, casting a strange glow over the even stranger country side. There’s nothing they recognize. Everything seems hostile when covered by darkness. The night is silent around them, watching, waiting.

Rick scratches at his beard and then folds his arms. He doesn’t say anything.

Daryl sighs and tilts his head back so it thuds against the brick wall behind him. A gun is pressed into the small of his back, his knife on his belt, but the bow is still in one of the bedrooms upstairs. He’s glad not to have to carry the weight of it at the moment.

Rick puts his hands on his hips and glances at the hunter.

Daryl closes his eyes as he exhales, his breath silver in the dark.

‘He’s fine for now, in case you were wondering.’

Daryl opens his eyes again. ‘I weren’t. Of course he’s fine. It was a fuckin’ nightmare; we all get them.’

Rick looks down at his feet. He shakes his head before looking at his friend again. ‘He’s not okay, Daryl.’

‘Got his fuckin’ face slit right open, of course he ain’t okay.’

‘It’s not that,’ Rick says. He sounds exasperated. ‘You know it’s not that. Those kinds of things, those wounds? They heal. Others don’t. I know. Daryl, _I_ know.’ He now steps even closer to his brother and puts a hand on his shoulder. The blue eyes are captured by the darkness around them, mere shadows of the bright irises they used to be. ‘With Lori… I was too late. Everything that had happened between us,’ he shakes his head. ‘The good just got crowded out. I couldn’t see it anymore, what a good mother she really was, how fearless a woman, how strong. The bad, it just dragged me right down. I couldn’t see the good for a long time but when I finally did… It was just too late.’

Daryl looks down at his boots. He lets his hair fall into his face.

‘I don’t know half of what’s going on between you two,’ Rick tells him in a quiet voice. ‘But you can’t give up now.’

‘Ain’t givin’ up.’

‘Then _talk_ to him,’ Rick urges.

Daryl sucks on his cigarette and looks away.

‘I thought I had time. With Lori, I thought I had time to step back, to let things calm down enough to see things clear again. I thought we had time to make things right.’ Rick puts his hands in his pockets. He looks out over the fields, the darkness surrounding them. ‘I lost her because I thought we’d have time.’ He kicks a pebble away and glances at his brother. ‘Don’t make the same mistake.’

‘I know we’re livin’ on borrowed time,’ Daryl murmurs before he can stop himself. ‘Don’t know how to make this right though. It’s all fucked up good.’ He throws the cigarette on the floor. ‘I promised him they’d die screamin’ and they did.’

Rick meets his eyes steadily and nods. There’s no horror on his face, no regret and certainly no fear.

 ‘Ain’t enough,’ Daryl says. ‘It ain’t enough.’

‘No,’ Rick agrees. ‘Because that was the beginning. Not the end.’

‘I don’t know what to do,’ the archer admits.

‘Be there for him.’

It’s not that easy. Daryl knows it’s not because he’s already tried that.

The days after their escape from Genesis are all a blur. He doesn’t even want to think about them. They consist of memories best forgotten. Images of Benjamin stumbling away from the bike when they finally returned to their family and falling to his knees, blood dripping down his front. Of him being dragged into an abandoned house, being dumped on the kitchen table by Abraham and then held down by Rick and Eugene while Maggie dug a needle into his skin.

Daryl doesn’t want to remember his screams. How they were first pleads and then Daryl’s own name until they morphed into just sheer _noise_. Only pain, until he’d passed out because of it.

Something had been different about the younger man when he’d finally woken up again.

‘He doesn’t want me to be there,’ Daryl says. He bites down on his thumb and then stuffs his hands into his pockets to hide the nervous gesture.

They haven’t spoken since their escape. The first couple of days, Daryl had tried to catch his friend alone but there had always been a reason why Benjamin wasn’t able to see him or talk to him. He’d been asleep or getting his bandages changed, he’d been on guard duty, he’d been scouting the area, he’d been reading a book and didn’t want to be disturbed.

The rest of the time he’d just disappeared.

After three days, Daryl stopped trying. He got the message.

‘That’s what he _thinks_ ,’ Rick answers. ‘You’ve seen him. He doesn’t talk, he doesn’t laugh, he barely even moves! He flinches at every touch. Carl gave him a heart attack by patting him on the shoulder yesterday. He’s _scared_ , Daryl. Of course he thinks he wants to be left alone.’ His best friend sighs softly and leans with his shoulder against the wall. He digs the heel of his boot into the soft earth. ‘We had a girl once, back at the station. Got raped at a party.’

Daryl flinches at the word.

‘Female officers took her statement,’ Rick continues. ‘She hadn’t fought back much, thought it was her own fault it had happened. Hell, there wasn’t anything she could have done. 120 pounds soaking wet against a grown man? Never stood a chance once he’d made up his damn mind. She’d been brave enough to come in and report it. Came in with her fiancé.’ Rick bows his head, rests a hand on his gun and shivers. ‘We caught the bastard who’d done it. It was a long time ago, we were….’ He shakes his head. ‘We were young, right? Thought that was it. The case was solved, the records put into the archive. Justice was served.’

‘What happened?’ Daryl asks even though he already knows.

‘Sometimes justice isn’t enough. Not for those left behind.’ Rick meets his eye again. ‘She killed herself four months later.’

Daryl looks away. ‘What’re ya tellin’ me for? That ain’t him.’

‘No?’ Rick questions. ‘Look me in the eye and say it ain’t him in four months.’

‘ _It ain’t gonna be him!_ ’

They both flinch at Daryl’s sudden raised voice. Rick looks around the darkness with baited breath. Silence beats between them. When it isn’t broken by voices or growls, Daryl slumps back against the building with closed eyes.

Rick shifts his weight. ‘It isn’t always up to us.’

‘What are you trying to say?’ Daryl asks, getting frustrated with this conversation. ‘First ya say I gotta _be there for him_ ,’ he scoffs at the words, ‘and now ya say I gotta prepare for his damn funeral?’

‘I’m telling you that you are losing him.’

Daryl sets his jaw. The muscles in his throat clench, tighten. He feels sick. ‘Ain’t,’ he manages to get out through clenched teeth.

‘He can’t even look at us anymore,’ Rick says. ‘He’s scared and he’s ashamed.’

‘He fuckin’ saved your sorry ass!’ Daryl explodes. ‘You’d be dead in a ditch somewhere if it weren’t for him, now don’t you tell me he’s got something to be _ashamed_ of!’

‘That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that he _is_ ashamed.’ Rick steps closer to his brother, head cocked to the side as he glares at the hunter, ‘you think he’s being rational right now? That he thinks _; I saved my whole family from a terrible faith and they will be forever indebted to me._ Of course not. All he probably thinks is; _I let a guy fucking rape me and everyone knows._ ’

The tension leaves Daryl’s body as he drops to his haunches and runs his hands through his hair.

‘The scar isn’t helping.’

His head whips up so he can look at Rick. ‘ _What_?’

‘The scar,’ Rick repeats, unimpressed by the famous Dixon glare he’s getting.

‘Jack shit he can do about that.’

‘I’m just saying,’ Rick says with a little shrug. ‘It goes across his entire face.’

‘So?’

The former sheriff gives him an exasperated look. ‘How would you feel if yours were splattered all over your face?’

Something stills inside Daryl’s chest. He rises slowly.

‘I saw them when you were shot by Andrea, back at Hershel’s farm. Couple of times on the road too. You hate it when people see them, hell, you change clothes in another room just so people don’t…’

‘Just because I ain’t paradin’ around buck naked in front of y’all, don’t mean….’ He trails off because he doesn’t know where to take that sentence. Of course he hates it when other people see the scars on his back. He’s not ashamed of them, not anymore, because now they’re just another reminder that he survived. Sometimes he tells himself that he hides them for other people’s benefit. They’re not a pretty sight, after all.

Benjamin won’t be able to hide the scar. Right now it’s still covered by bandages, so no-one besides Maggie, Rick and Daryl know the extent of his injuries, but soon he won’t need the bandages anymore.

The scar will be in plain sight. A constant reminder.

Daryl winces at the thought.

Rick just nods and looks out over the fields again like he’s proven his point. ‘Just keep an eye on him, that’s all I’m saying. He can come back from this, but he’s going to need your help. All our help. Don’t let him pull back too far, okay?’

 

It’s the next morning when Daryl runs into Benjamin by accident. They literally collide when Benjamin exits the bathroom of the abandoned house while Daryl tries to get to the master bedroom to get some shut-eye after his guard duty with Rick.

Daryl grunts when the younger man bumps into him but reaches out to steady him on instinct. In a flash, he sees how the green eyes grow wide in fear. Benjamin seems to choke on his breath, sucking it in sharply before spluttering. He backs away from the hunter’s broad frame and nearly bumps into the doorframe.

It would have been funny, Daryl supposes, if the blond hadn’t looked so terrified.

‘Jesus,’ Benjamin breathes, ‘watch where you’re fucking going!’

Daryl narrows his eyes at the aggressive tone but lets it slide. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah.’ His friend jerks his arm away to break the hunter’s steadying hold on him. ‘I’m fine.’ One hand comes up so he can pull the hoodie over his hair. Parts of it are pure white now, others nearly yellow, mixing with his own blond and gray. Evidence from that last vicious bleach attack. His eyes may have recovered, with only a couple of days of irritation as a side-effect, but the hair is ruined.

The bandage covers his cheek and parts of his chin, snaking down his neck to disappear beneath his shirt and hoodie. The edge near his eye has come loose. Benjamin smooths it over with a trembling hand.

The green eyes are down-cast, avoiding Daryl’s gaze.

The hunter looks past him into the bathroom. They have no use for the room itself, but there’s a mirror there. Someone has wiped it clean with their hands. He glances down.

Benjamin’s palms are filthy.

‘What were ya doin’?’

‘Nothing.’ Benjamin hides his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. ‘Have you seen Maggie?’

‘No. She’s probably in the living room. Why?’

The blond shrugs, ‘need her to change my bandages. They’re getting gross.’

‘I can do it.’

Benjamin glances up at him. He takes a small step back and ducks his head again, his chin nearly touching his chest as he scuffs his boots on the floorboards. ‘Nah,’ he says, trying to sound casual and failing. ‘It’s… You’re probably tired. Man,’ he chokes out the fakest laugh Daryl’s ever heard come out of his mouth, ‘You kept watch the whole night with Rick, so you’re probably falling over. I shouldn’t keep you any longer. Get some rest.’

Daryl grits his teeth together. ‘Ain’t so tired I can’t change your damn bandages.’

‘Maggie’s used to doing it, she won’t mind,’ Benjamin mutters as he sidles past the hunter. ‘It’s not very… It looks bad, okay? Best let her do-‘

Daryl grabs Benjamin’s biceps and yanks him close, ‘I don’t give a damn about how it _looks_ , a’right?’

‘Let go of me.’ They stare at each other for a second. Then Daryl’s gaze drops down to Benjamin’s hand. He’s holding his knife, almost fully unsheathed now, fingers white from the sudden pressure. ‘Let go of me,’ he breathes. ‘ _Right now_.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Daryl mutters as he lets go. ‘Benji-‘

‘Stop. I’ve told you before; put your hands on me in anger again and I _will_ gut you.’ The green eyes are cold when he finally manages to look Daryl in the eye.

‘I didn’t-‘

‘Just leave me alone.’

‘No,’ Daryl worries his bottom lip for a second.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Said _no_.’

The green eyes narrow angrily. Benjamin shoulders past him. ‘Fuck off, Daryl.’

‘Good lord. I’m tryin’ to help, a’right?’

‘By getting all up in my face?’ Benjamin snarls back, ‘by grabbing on me like that? By not leaving me alone like I fucking asked you to? That’s not helping, Daryl. _You’re_ not helping.’

‘Then what the fuck do you want me to do?’ Daryl demands with a growl.

‘Nothing,’ Benjamin snaps. ‘Can you listen to me for one second? I want you to leave me alone!’

‘Fine.’ Daryl makes a throw-away gesture and stalks away towards one of the bedrooms.

‘Fine!’ The blond calls after him. He watches how the hunter turns the corner and slams the door behind him.

 

It’s several hours later when Carol shakes Daryl’s shoulder carefully, calling his name in order to try and wake him up gently. There’s no point. The moment her hand touches his shoulder, he’s sitting up in the bed, eyes wide and his heart beating in his throat.

‘Sorry,’ she says as she sits down on the edge of the bed. ‘It’s just me, Pookie.’

‘What do you want?’ He mutters as he rubs at the side of his head to try and clear it a little. It doesn’t sound as hostile as it could have. The fact that she sat down calms him a little. There’s no emergency.

Carol picks at her fingernails. ‘Dinner is ready. You need to eat something.’

‘All right,’ he answers easily. The room has gotten dark since he turned in. There are unfamiliar shadows haunting the furniture and walls. He listens for the noise of his family but they’re downstairs, too far away for him to hear their voices. It feels strange now, even though he’d gotten used to not having them around while they were in Genesis.

This is different, of course. They’re back out on the road, switching houses every couple of days in order to scavenge new areas. No-one is sure where they are heading now, even though Rick leads them through the country side like they have a purpose. Daryl knows the former cop has no clue about their destination though.

Carol glances at him.

‘Spit it out,’ he says as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed.

‘It’s Benjamin.’

Daryl groans when she doesn’t continue. They sit side by side on the bed. He leans down to tighten his laces, just to have something to do. ‘What about him?’

‘He’s not coping.’

‘Tell me something new,’ Daryl snaps at her as he pushes himself away from the bed. He hoists his bow onto his shoulder before making his way to the door. ‘Rick was already all over my ass about it last night. He’ll be fine. Don’t want my help or nothing so-‘

‘He’s gone outside.’

Daryl stops on the threshold and glances back at her. He narrows his eyes in a silent question.

‘He said he needed some air,’ Carol tells him, ‘but he’s been gone a long time now.’

‘So?’

‘Maybe you should look for him.’

‘He’s a big boy,’ Daryl scoffs. ‘Ain’t his keeper.’

Carol just looks at him for a second. ‘If I’m gone for three hours when I tell you I need some air, you better come looking for me, Daryl Dixon.’

He lets his head hang and then gives her a small smirk. ‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Good boy,’ she praises mockingly as she gets up. ‘Now get that cute butt moving.’

‘Stop,’ Daryl warns but he laughs to himself as he rushes down the stairs, jumping down the last set of steps and landing in the hall. ‘I’m headin’ out,’ he tells Rick as he claps his brother on the shoulder. ‘Carol said Benji’s still out there?’

‘Yeah. Told her he needed some air, told Sasha he needed to take a piss, Maggie that he was going to get some water from the creek.’

‘Means he’s talkin’, right?’ Daryl murmurs while he dips his fingers in Rosita’s beans and scoops some into his mouth. ‘Thanks.’

‘You’re not welcome,’ she tells him flatly with a disgusted look on her face.

There’s a ghost of a smile on Rick face as he nods towards the door. ‘He was heading west last time anyone saw him.’

‘Guy’s loud as an elephant in a glass house. I’ll find him.’

‘Of course. Be careful.’

Daryl salutes Rick before he slips out of the house. Night has fallen while he was asleep. The night air is cold and crisp. His breath ghosts around him as he lets his eyes adjust to the darkness before setting out, heading west. There’s no point in trying to track Benjamin without any light. The world is gray around him, the forest floor just a splash of ink beneath his boots.

The darkness seems to enhance the sounds, however. He can hear the white-noise of his own breathing and heartbeat, but its drowned out by the sounds of the woods. Birds flitter through the leaves above his head, small animals flee from his approaching footsteps.

It doesn’t take him too longer to pick up on the sounds of a walker.

He tries to ignore it for a while. The sound comes from his right. They’re pretty far out from the house they’re squatting in but he still doesn’t like to take chances with their security. So he steers to the right and follows the snarls and growls.

The walker doesn’t seem to move. That’s the first thing he notices when he gets closer.

After a couple of minutes he stumbles upon a scene that causes his blood to freeze inside his veins.

There’s a walker trapped in a low bush. It used to be a blonde woman. It’s just a corpse now. Roots and braches are tangled around her legs and waist, keeping her in place while she growls and struggles. Rotting arms stretched out.

The fingers brush over Benjamin’s chest.

The blond man is standing in front of the woman like he’s rooted to the spot too. He isn’t looking at her. Instead, his gaze rests on the gun in his hands. With practiced movements he checks the chamber, checks the magazine, loads it, cocks it, flips the safety off. Then he flips it back on, only to do it all again while the fingers of the dead woman scratch at his hoodie.

Daryl can’t move. His mouth is dry.

Benjamin flips the safety off for a third time, but instead of flicking it back on, he stops.

He runs his fingers over the metal. They curl around the trigger. He lifts the gun to his temple.

Daryl feels sick. He opens his mouth to scream but can’t find any words. A pained sound escapes him instead, easily lost in the breeze.

Benjamin sighs, looks up at the heavens. He closes his eyes.

And lets the gun drop back to his side.

He bats the hands of the walker away from him, takes a step back and stuffs his gun in the holster on his hip. Then he grabs the walker by the throat and plunges his knife deep into her eye socket. It makes a horrible sucking sound when he pulls it out again.

Benjamin’s breath ghosts around him when he backs away from the corpse. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘Benji.’

The younger man doesn’t seem surprised by the fact that Daryl is right behind him. He turns to look at his friend. There’s no expression on his face.

‘What’re ya doin’?’

Benjamin blinks and looks down at his hand in which he’s still holding the knife. It’s dripping with blood. He almost seems surprised. With a confused frown he turns, looks at the walker and then back at Daryl. ‘I-‘ he starts but falters for a second. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Ya killed a walker.’

‘Yeah,’ Benjamin breathes. He sounds dazed. ‘I know. It’s- it’s what we do, right?’

‘Right,’ Daryl answers. ‘Why did ya have your gun out?’

‘I didn’t.’ They look at each other. Something hardens in Benjamin’s face. The confusion melts away as he tugs at his hood, dragging it down so it covers his hair. ‘What are you doing out here?’

‘Carol’s worried.’

‘Why? Because I didn’t ask her to hold my damn hand while I walked a lap around our new tomb? You know, before all that bullshit at Genesis you would send me out on runs for hours and hours on my own. Remember that? Back when Rick was fucking dying out on the road? I didn’t need a chaperone then and I don’t need one now!’

‘Keep your voice down!’ Daryl snaps. ‘Good lord.’ He turns on his heels and starts to head back to their temporary home. ‘Get your ass inside the house. She made ya dinner.’

‘Thought you were done with walking away.’

The night is far too silent for a single moment. The old world is gone and it took all the noise with it. All the air too.

Daryl silently chokes on nothing. He closes his eyes, counts to ten like his book taught him and the anger dissolves into that dull sensation of an open wound, always throbbing but never burning. He opens his eyes again and sighs. ‘What do you want me to do?’ Daryl asks once more. He turns to show that he does expect an answer this time. A real one.

Benjamin is a mere shadow in the dark. He lifts his hand to his lips and bites on his fingernails. The faint clicking sound of teeth on teeth with a nail in-between is so familiar, it causes Daryl to shiver. The younger man opens his mouth but changes his mind. He thinks his answer over. ‘I don’t know,’ he concludes. It doesn’t sound as angry as it had done before. And less confused too. He sounds tired and scared. ‘I just don’t know.’

‘A’right,’ Daryl says. He holds out his hand. ‘Give me your gun.’

‘Why?’

‘Ya know why.’

‘I wouldn’t have… I wouldn’t have done it,’ Benjamin objects but he doesn’t sound too sure.

‘Just give me the damn gun.’

Benjamin swallow thickly and gets his gun out. His hand shakes when he holds it out.

Daryl takes the weapon. ‘Get goin’.’

‘I need my gun,’ Benjamin tries to reason. ‘You can’t leave me out here without a fucking gun, Daryl.’

‘Ya got your knife,’ Daryl tells him. ‘And I got your gun.’

‘So you really are my chaperone now? _Jesus_.’

‘Brought this on yourself,’ Daryl murmurs. ‘Get going now, done told ya; Carol’s got dinner for us.’

‘I wasn’t going to do anything,’ Benjamin repeats. The sulky tone in his voice makes him sound younger than he really is. He stops and looks at the dark sky for a second. ‘You know this doesn’t change a thing right? Taking my gun away? Hell, it might be better to do it with a knife, actually. I wouldn’t want a horde to come down on you all just because I’m fucking tired of this shit. And if you take my knife too? Hell, that’s a death sentence right there.’

Of course, Daryl knows all that. But he still feels better when he tucks the gun between the small of his back and the waistband of his jeans.

‘Ya said you weren’t goin’ to do nothing.’

Benjamin looks at him, ‘your English hurts my brain sometimes. Bet you got all the girls with that accent.’

‘All them girls had the accent too,’ Daryl points out. ‘Weren’t nothing special.’

‘Right.’ The blond nods. ‘And no. _Weren’t going to do nothing._ Seven months, remember? I think I still got four more weeks. Does it ever snow in these parts of the country? You know I’d like that as my last farewell. I fucking hate snow. It would be the final nail on my coffin.’

Daryl follows him while they walk back to the house. He thinks about the blond’s words. Just an hour ago, he’d given anything to have Benjamin talk to him again with that ease of shared secrets between them, but now he doesn’t want to hear it. Any of it.


	2. This is fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that I effed up my own uploading scedule. Ah well, that one was one day early. Next update on Friday, y'all.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Daryl tries to stay busy with mundane chores. He walks the perimeter of the house to ease his own nerves. There’s a small patch of trees, following the road as it snakes away into the distance. The game here is small, just a couple of rabbits and birds that happen to have made their home between the leaves. He wonders how long it will take before every town and patch of trees becomes his hunting grounds. Nature has started to reclaim the houses they are squatting in, with moss growing on the floorboards and bushes growing in through broken windows.

Possums often hide in cupboards. They’ve found nests of various animals in corners and nooks. It won’t be long before cities are a thing of the past. He’s not sure they will ever reclaim them.

Maybe Rick will one day take Judith to one of the bigger cities to show her how they used to live. That there once had been such a thing as supermarkets, that they used to be able to build buildings that had touched the sky. A part of him hopes that she will recognize them from the books Benjamin will teach her how to read, or the stories Michonne will tell her just before bedtime, or even from the vague memories her older brother still has. He hopes they will all be around to share those little tidbits of their former lives with her. He hopes that Rick will get the chance to lead her through the cities of their home-town and show her where he’d gone to the academy, which high-school he’d met Lori at, how they used to live before all of this went down.

He walks for a long time and tries to clear his mind. His gaze wanders over the forest floor but doesn’t pick up on any tracks, except his own. When he comes cross Benjamin’s, the ones near the bush with the dead walker, deep because he’d stood there for a long time, he turns and heads back to the house.

His family has gathered in the backyard. They’re sitting in a circle, discussing what to do and never reaching a conclusion while they eat their meager breakfast.

Daryl eyes them from a distance. He’s surprised to find that Benjamin has joined them. The blond is sitting next to Maggie, his arms slung around his drawn-up knees, chin resting on top of them. He’s dragged the hoodie down so it hides most of his face. He’s not talking.

There’s a tin can leaning against his boots. It doesn’t look like he’s eating either.

The hunter circles around and finds the empty spot next to his friend. He sits down.

Benjamin doesn’t react.

Daryl reaches for the tin can and takes a couple of bites before nudging the blond in the arm with it.

With a heavy sigh, Benjamin takes it. He takes two bites before passing it back again.

Small victories, Daryl muses.

The conversation slowly dies down when Glenn’s story about his pizza-delivery time ends. Michonne eats her food while staring openly at Benjamin. The dark eyes are trying to force him to speak up and break the silence like he used to, before Genesis but the blond ignores her like he ignores everyone else around him.

People share nervous looks. Maggie looks heartbroken while Abraham huffs and glances away.

Carl is the first to break under the pressure. He gives his father his left-overs and clears his throat. ‘Ben?’ He asks in a voice far too tentative. Benjamin still flinches. ‘Tell us a story?’

Pale fingers scratch at the bandage on his cheek as Benjamin looks up. Dull, green eyes pin the teenager in place. ‘Baby shoes for sale,’ he says evenly. ‘Never worn.’

Carl stares at him.

‘What?’ Benjamin shrugs. ‘Best short story I know.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘I know what you meant,’ the blond snaps, ‘but I don’t have a whole goddamn library up in my brain, okay? You want a story? Make up your own or find a damn book somewhere.’

Rick looks up with a warning in his eyes, lips pressed into a thin line, but Daryl beats him to it. The hunter tosses the tin can aside and gets up, using Benjamin’s shoulder to keep his balance. His nails dig into the flesh as a scolding. ‘Ain’t no time for stories anyway,’ he says as he stretches. He looks down at Carl. ‘Show me your arms.’

‘What, why?’ the teenager asks even though he stretches them out before him for inspection.

‘Reckon they’re long enough?’ Daryl asks Rick.

‘Only one way to know, huh?’ the former cop answers with a secret smile. They’ve talked about this during one of the many watch duties they’ve shared over the past couple of days.

‘Know what?’ Carl asks as he glances from his dad to Daryl and back.

The hunter taps the toe of his boot against his crossbow. ‘Still wanna learn?’

The brown eyes grow huge. He jumps to his feet eagerly. ‘Yes! You’re going to teach me?’

‘Who else?’ Daryl asks as he grabs his backpack and slings it onto his shoulders. ‘C’mon, let’s get to it then. We’re burnin’ daylight.’

‘Yes!’ Carl whoops and pumps his fists before following the archer.

After a couple of strides, Daryl raises an eyebrow and glances at him. ‘Forgetting something, kid? How you’re gonna shoot with no bow ‘nd bolts?’

‘Shit.’ Carl whirls around and spots the weapon, still resting on the ground next to Benjamin. ‘I thought you would-‘

‘Hey, you shoot it, you carry it. The safety’s on, grab it by the strap and put it on your shoulder. Mind the string. It’s all good.’

The teenager runs back to the campfire and, under Daryl’s watchful gaze, lifts the crossbow onto his shoulder. He hesitates for a moment and then throws the strap over his head so the weapon rests on his back. Just like how Daryl usually carries it. He beams at Michonne and turns on his heels.

‘Carl,’ Benjamin speaks up, lifting his head so he can meet the boy’s eye. It causes the hoodie to slide down his hair and pool around his neck. The blond hair is a mess now that he doesn’t put any product in it anymore. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll try to think of a good story for when you get back, okay?’

Carl glances at Daryl before looking down at his friend. He cocks his head to the side, a Grimes signature move. ‘It wasn’t really about the stories. I don’t care about those.’

Benjamin frowns to show he doesn’t understand.

‘You don’t talk to me anymore,’ Carl says. ‘I just… You don’t talk to me anymore. I’m sorry I asked you to get me batteries back in… I just thought….’ He takes a deep breath. ‘We’re still friends, right? I mean, you used to talk to me all the time.’

‘Of course we’re friends,’ Benjamin mutters. ‘And I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m not okay, Carl. It’s complicated.’

‘I know you’re not okay.’ Carl stands a little straighter, ‘but you can still come back from that.’ He looks at Michonne for a split second. ‘We’re never too far gone.’

‘Sometimes, when we come back, we’re not the same.’

‘This isn’t you.’

Benjamin plucks at his fingernails and doesn’t answer.

‘It’s _not_ ,’ the teenager insists. His voice rises in pitch. ‘You’re _not_ quiet and you’re _not_ weak!’

Benjamin flinches at the words.

Michonne stretches her long legs and clears her throat. ‘Carl,’ she says gently. ‘Daryl is waiting for you. Go before he changes his mind.’

The obvious dismissal causes the younger Grimes to bristle a bit, but he holds on to the strap of the crossbow and dips his head in a curt nod. When he passes his father, the cop stops him with a hand on his calf.

‘Be careful,’ he tells his son. ‘And listen to everything Daryl says, okay?’

‘I will.’

‘Good,’ Rick strokes his leg in a comforting gesture before smiling at him. ‘Go on then. Have fun.’

‘Bring us back a rabbit!’ Rosita calls out after him.

‘Or twenty!’ Abraham adds with a smirk.

 

 

Teaching Carl how to use his crossbow is a strange experience. It’s been a long time since his dad taught him how to do it and by now it’s second nature to swing the weapon up to his shoulder. He doesn’t need to think about his breathing anymore, and certainly not about where to place his hands in order to keep it balanced, so he fumbles through the explanation. It painfully reminds of the lessons he’d given Beth. Like her, Carl learns fast.

There’s sweat dripping down the boy’s forehead. He wipes it away distractedly, the bow wobbling as he tries to hold it with one hand.

‘It’s heavy,’ Carl mutters as he adjusts his grip and steadies it again. He peers down the sight, squinting a little bit.

‘Makes it easier to balance,’ Daryl mutters. He’s standing right behind the teenager and follows the movement of his fingers. ‘Line the shot up.’

Carl tilts his head a little to the side. ‘Got it.’

He doesn’t, of course, but Daryl still tells him, ‘let it rip then.’

The bolt flies by the tree Daryl has marked and buries itself in the wall of hay far behind it.

For a second, Daryl remembers being clipped over the back for every time he’d missed an easy shot like that. His father’s heavy breathing in his ear, that stench of sweat and lingering booze and the promise of a beating in the slurred words, should he miss the next time.

‘Shit,’ Carl curses. ‘But I had it!’

‘Nah,’ Daryl says, ‘this ain’t no gun. You’re linin’ up wrong, already told you that.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He lowers the bow and lets it rest on the ground near his feet.

‘Takes skill. Try again.’ Daryl steps away from the teenager and watches like a hawk as the boy reloads. He grabs a rope from his pocket and hands it to Carl. It’s something he’d found on the very bottom of his pack, he never needs to use it in order to cock the bow and prefers to do it by hand. It’s faster. But he remembers the first couple of times his daddy had made him pull the string back with his bare hands, how it had made deep cuts into the sensitive skin, angry red marks that would hurt for days. ‘Pull back evenly now. It fucks up the arms if ya don’t,’ he murmurs as Carl grunts and pulls the string up until the locking mechanism clicks loudly.

‘Got it.’

‘Good job.’

Carl beams at him, slightly out of breath.

Daryl smirks back and reclaims his spot behind the boy. ‘Okay, from the top, officer,’ he says as he steps close. ‘Line up.’

Carl swings the bow up to his shoulder. He adjusts his stance a little, and nods, ‘okay.’

‘Wait. I’m gonna,’ Daryl sighs and puts a hand on Carl’s shoulder. It surprises him that the boy doesn’t jump. ‘Relax your shoulder, you’re hitching it up too much. Good,’ he nudges his spine next, ‘stand straight now. Close your left eye and aim.’

Carl nods and does as he’s told.

‘When ya pull the trigger, do it gently, like with your gun, okay? Mind the kickback and keep on target to follow through. Easy does it,’ he reaches around to tilt the bow a bit higher. ‘Ya got it now. Release it.’

Carl pulls the trigger carefully. The sound of the arrow leaving the bow still causes him to jerk the bow up a bit, but it only causes the bolt to hit the tree slightly above the target. ‘I got it!’ Carl whoops excitedly. ‘Did you see that?’

‘Of course I saw it,’ Daryl scoffs as he steps back to reclaim his personal space. ‘Did good,’ he nods when Carl looks at him like he expects something more. The boy grins at the praise.

‘What’s that I’m hearing?’ Rick calls out. ‘Are you doing good?’

Daryl and Carl both look up to the cop sauntering over. There’s a wide smile on his face.

Benjamin is walking a step behind him. His hands are pushed deep in his pockets and he’s watching the ground instead of looking up to see where they are heading. The hoodie hides his hair again. It has become his new look ever since they left Genesis. While he used to take pride in his hairstyle, always preening when he caught a reflective surface, he has now stopped caring all together. It’s been a while since he’s shaved, too.

‘I hit the target,’ Carl boasts.

‘And how many attempts did that take?’ Rick laughs as his eye wanders to the almost empty quiver on Daryl’s back.

‘It takes _skill_! It’s not like with a gun,’ Carl turns his nose up and shares a look with Daryl.

Rick shakes his head fondly. ‘Are you setting my boy up against me, Dixon?’

‘Yup.’

‘All right,’ Rick nods and lets himself fall in the grass a couple of paces away from his son. ‘Go on,’ he waves at the target, ‘show me what you got.’

Benjamin sits down next to Rick like a silent shadow. The green eyes are watching Daryl’s shoulder rather than meeting his gaze.

‘Can I?’ Carl asks.

‘Yeah,’ Daryl hands him the cocking rope again. ‘Load it up.’

The teenager struggles a bit and flushes, glancing warily at his father before asking Daryl a question under his breath about why it’s not working right. The hunter taps his boot against the side he mounted wrong and Carl swears softly before adjusting it. Rick doesn’t say a word. He just leans back on his elbows and watches.

‘Okay,’ Carl grins when the bolt is in place.

Daryl takes his spot behind him again. ‘Fingers,’ he warns.

Carl changes his grip on the bow.

‘Safety.’

The safety is switched off.

‘It’s hot,’ Daryl nods as he leans in close se he can follow the line of the bow. ‘Close yar eye. Little bit to the left.’

‘But the highest dot is on your mark,’ Carl mutters with a little frown. ‘I got it.’

‘It’s the wind,’ Daryl tells him. ‘Gotta adjust to it. Better,’ he nods when Carl shifts a little to left. ‘Remember; lean in, don’t grip too tight and squeeze it off gently. Go.’

The bolt finds its target with a dull thud.

Rick whoops and claps his hands. ‘That’s a Grimes aim, right there!’

Carl wipes his forehead as he carefully puts the bow on the ground. ‘Daryl told me to hit it out left.’

Daryl smirks and ruffles the teenager’s hair, surprising himself with the ease of their interaction. ‘That’s just experience. You got a good eye, kid. Run along and grab my bolts now. I’m done teachin’ for today.’

‘Thanks, man. Can I try it some more another time?’

‘Is water wet?’ Daryl throws over his shoulder. ‘Can’t learn to shoot a bow in one hour. This was just the start.’

Carl pumps his fist and he chats excitedly to Rick while they head over to the bolts.

Daryl plops down in the grass beside Benjamin. He gets his cigarettes out and lights one, but Benjamin doesn’t react to it as he normally would have. Instead, he’s scratching at the bandage on his neck. It must be irritating his skin.

Daryl wipes his nose on the back of his hand. ‘Hangin’ out with Rick?’ He asks to start a conversation.

‘Yeah,’ Benjamin nods. ‘Sasha’s covering the house, Carol’s watching Judith. The others went out on runs.’ He shrugs a little, ‘they didn’t have much use for someone who doesn’t even have a gun so Rick got to babysit me for a while.’

‘Want a lesson while I’m at it?’ the hunter asks because he won’t discuss the whole gun issue again.

‘Are you sure you can trust me with a deadly weapon?’ Benjamin gives him a nasty glare.

‘Hard to shoot yourself in the head with a crossbow.’

‘Don’t underestimated me.’

‘Fine, forget I offered.’

Benjamin hums and licks his finger to rub some dirt off his army boots. They sit quietly side by side for a little while. Daryl smokes his cigarette. He tries to think of something, anything, to make the other man talk to him.

He settles on one of their old games. ‘Tell me something you don’t miss from before.’

The blond looks at him for a second, recognition flashing somewhere deep in those dull eyes. He licks his lips and then bites down on the lower one. He looks away. ‘I miss my family.’

‘Everyone does,’ Daryl retorts. ‘I asked for something ya _don’t_ miss.’

‘You don’t miss yours. I’m not even sure whether that’s just real convenient for you, or real tragic.’

Daryl bristles at that. ‘I miss my brother.’

‘Merle? Why? Everyone I’ve asked said he was a worthless piece of shit.’

‘ _Fuck you_.’ The words sting more than he’d like to admit. Daryl gets up, grabs his bow and stalks away. He doesn’t look back and therefor can’t see the look of sorrow on Benjamin’s face. Nor does he catch Rick stalking over to the blond, eyes dark with anger and lips pressed into a thin line as he hauls the younger man to his feet and shakes him roughly, asking him what the fuck he thinks he’s getting at, saying something like that.

He doesn’t see any of it.

 

 

 

Benjamin is standing on the edge of a cliff. The blond hair is a tangled mess, too bright now that it has been dyed with bleach. He’s wearing a black shirt, light summer jeans and his army boots. He’s looking down at the river coiling beneath him. The water roars like thunder.

It’s raining. Droplets cling to his lashes like tears.

Daryl follows his footprints towards the edge. The cold has made his fingers numb inside his gloves. Every piece of clothing he’s wearing is soaked. ‘Put this on,’ he says when he finally reaches his friend.

‘I’m fine.’ Benjamin answers without looking at the hunter, who holds out a jacket for him. ‘I can’t even feel the cold.’

‘We’re leavin’. You comin’? I’ve packed up your stuff.’

‘Doesn’t seem like I’ve got much of a choice then.’

Daryl bristles, ‘ya’d rather stay here? Just say so and I’ll dump your worthless shit wherever ya decided to sulk for the day.’

‘ _Sulk_?’ Benjamin finally turns towards his friend.  

Daryl bites the inside of his cheek. It was the wrong word. All he has these days are wrong words. ‘Look,’ he says desperately. ‘You said it weren’t you. None of that were _you_!’

That earns him a dismissive snort. ‘If I’d said it would haunt me forever, you wouldn’t have let me.’

‘They’re _dead_.’

‘That doesn’t change anything. You of all people should know that.’

It feels like a slap in the face, a crude reversal of roles, but he is not soft spoken and he doesn’t think that any of his worthless words will ever make this any better. He’s hurt in the past, sure, but he doesn’t understand comfort in any other form but a shove and order to stop his pathetic crying.

Benjamin wobbles on his feet. He looks down over the edge.

‘The fall won’t kill ya,’ Daryl tells him.

‘I’m not jumping.’

But you’re still dying, Daryl thinks, and you don’t sleep, don’t drink, don’t laugh. You’re dying. Slowly. From the inside out.

He doesn’t know how to make it stop.

He’s faced demons like that before, the exact same ones with vicious tongues who’d whispered in the dark about how worthless he was, how pathetic and weak. He had flushed them out with a dangerous mixture of moonshine, drugs and women. They always came back, of course, sometimes even stronger than before, but there had always been more moonshine and more drugs and women. And after a while, the demons had made a home inside his mind, where they nestled and fell asleep to the hum of a new life; that art project he really wanted to finish, Merle who got home, a job that earned him a decent living.

They wake up, still, sometimes. In the dead of night when Beth’s giggle would rip him from his nightmares, when Merle sits in the corner and talks to him even though he’s been dead for a long time now, when Rick confesses that he doesn’t have a clue about where they’re supposed to be heading now.

But unlike before, the demons are not just his to tame anymore. He allows others to do it. Carol, who’d once told him that he’s every bit as good as Rick and who still believes that. Glenn, who didn’t mean just his wife when he’d told him that his blood was standing right there with him after Woodbury. Maggie, who still trusts him even though he couldn’t save her sister.

He knows there’s no point in pushing Benjamin to get better.

It’s up to the blond man now. He has to decide that he wants help. That he _wants_ this life.

Daryl is tired of fighting. He draws his gun. ‘Here,’ he presses it into Benjamin’s cold hands. ‘When I was real young, my daddy would beat my momma so bad. He’d made Merle and me watch, said it would make us men or some bullshit. When it was over, she’d sing for us, ya know, to make us feel better.’

Benjamin looks at him through his bangs.

‘One day she didn’t anymore. She just stopped. Stopped singin’, then stopped smilin’, dancin’ until she just stopped altogether.’ Daryl looks out over the river and the woods beyond. He wipes a hand over his face in a hopeless attempt to dry it. ‘Everyone said it were an accident. That she’d just forgotten to put out her cigarette, fell asleep while smokin’ and set herself on fire.’

The blond nods to show that he’s listening.

‘Weren’t no _accident_ ,’ Daryl mutters. He knows it in his heart but hasn’t ever said it out loud before. His mom had faced her demons and lost. A simple truth. ‘I’ve seen a lot of people die,’ Daryl tells his friend. ‘By bullets, knives, swords, hands, fire. Most go quick. That was the first time I’d seen someone die slow, I guess. My mom. It took years.’

Benjamin looks at the gun in his hands.

‘Don’t make me watch no more,’ Daryl asks him. ‘If you gotta do it, do it, just… Don’t make me watch. And best make it quick. ‘s easier.’

 ‘For whom?’

Daryl shivers. Then bites on the inside of his cheek. ‘All this?’ he asks, voice breaking on the words. ‘This was supposed to be temporary, remember? Dante went through his seven circles of-‘

‘Nine. Nine circles of hell, through fire, to paradise.’

‘This is fire,’ Daryl whispers.

‘It doesn’t feel like it. It doesn’t feel like anything.’

‘Never grabbed no hot plate? The handle of the pan with ya bare hands? At first it don’t feel like anything. Then it hurts like hell.’

Benjamin looks at him with sad eyes. ‘You don’t make it sound very appealing. It doesn’t hurt now. Why would I want it to hurt like hell?’

‘Means you’re one step closer to paradise.’

The blond snorts, ‘you don’t believe that.’

‘No. But you did.’ Daryl hitches his bow higher onto his shoulder and glances down at the gun. ‘Whatever you do, just… don’t make me watch. I don’t want you to. Hell,’ he bites on his lower lip, hard enough to hurt, ‘hell _, I love you_. But I can’t watch you die slow, day by day, it’s just… I can’t watch. Not again.’ He curls his hands around the strap of his crossbow to prevent himself from reaching for the other man. He dips his chin and looks at Benjamin through his bangs. ‘See you soon then. Either way.’

The blond nods, ‘I suppose so.’

 

He looks down at Daryl’s gun which only holds one bullet.

And stands there for a very long time.

 

 


	3. Natural causes

 

* * *

 

 

The fact that Benjamin returns that night, soaked to the bone and shivering, doesn’t mean that everything is magically better. But there’s a weight that is lifted from Daryl’s breastbone the moment he steps through the door and shakes the blond hair out of his green eyes. The soft light of candles makes them warmer than they have been in days.

His gaze sweeps over the faces of his family for a second before he spots Rosita, who is lounging in the corner. He walks over and kneels down beside her.

Everyone in the room pretends to be otherwise occupied while listening in on the conversation.

‘Hey,’ Benjamin murmurs.

‘Hey,’ Rosita answers easily. ‘You’re dripping all over me.’

‘At least it isn’t drool.’ He offers her a small smile.

‘There’s that,’ she nods. ‘What’s up?’

‘I was wondering if…’ The blond scratches nervously at the bandage on his cheek. ‘Maybe, if you’ve got time. I mean… Can we talk?’

Rosita’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. ‘Sure!’ She sounds so eager that it makes the younger man wince. ‘I mean, yeah, whatever,’ she laughs, feigning indifference. ‘If you really wanna…’

‘I really wanna,’ he nods. The small smile still lingers around the corners of his mouth. He holds out his hand to her, helping her up. It’s the first time in days that he’s initiated physical contact with anyone. There’s obvious tension in his frame when she loops an arm around his waist, but he doesn’t slip out of the half-embrace.

‘Your room or my room?’ Rosita asks.

‘Mine,’ Benjamin says immediately. Except the blond hasn’t been staying in a room, not exactly. He sleeps in the attic. The room that’s farthest away from the living room, where his family usually squats.

‘Okay, dibs on your bed though, I’m not sitting on the damn floor.’

‘Fine. Dibs on the pillow.’

‘The pillow is part of the bed, I called that dibs, loser.’

‘How is a pillow part of a bed? The fact that it _seems_ to be a package deal doesn’t mean-‘

‘Dibs on your blankets then.’

‘Fuck! That isn’t fair, blankets and pillows _are_ a package deal, you can’t call dibs on one-‘

Their argument fades when they reach the attic and close the door behind them.

Daryl listens to their footsteps until they reach the bed. A body falls down on the matrass. Too light to be Benjamin. The hunter sighs when everything goes quiet upstairs. He’s cleaning his bow by the fire, smearing lube over the rail and taking care of the string, twisting his fingers around it and only snagging them a couple of times because his mind keeps wandering to other places.

Rick is sitting next to his brother. Cross-legged and with Carl’s head resting on his thigh. Dirty fingers brush through the dark hair of his sleeping son. The teenager has his back to his dad, but even in his sleep, his finger are holding on to the hem of Rick’s jeans.

‘Who taught you how to shoot that thing?’

Daryl glances at the former cop. ‘My old man.’

‘Thought it would have been Merle.’

‘Why?’

‘Just did.’

‘’cause my dad was just redneck trash, too busy beatin’ up his boys to teach them something worthwhile?’ Daryl ask with narrowed eyes.

Rick shrugs.

‘He was all that.’ Daryl turns back to the bow. ‘Weren’t too busy though.’

‘Hmm. Did he take you out to the backyard like you did with Carl? Taught you how to shoot a bunch of hay?’

Daryl sighs and stretches his leg out, careful to keep his movements silent and slow as to not wake the child sleeping between them. He can feel Michonne’s eyes on him, and even Sasha’s curious gaze, but he doesn’t mind that they’re listening in. ‘Nah,’ he murmurs. ‘First time was like that, I guess. He didn’t tell me to mind my fingers or nothing, said the pain would make me remember. It did. Thought I got good fast, got a bit cocky.’ He nods to himself and looks at the fire. ‘So my dad caught this rabbit, right? In one of them traps that keeps them alive. Put it near my mark, slit it’s leg muscles so it couldn’t run. Thing squealed like a dying pig.’

Rick’s hand stills on Carl’s hair.

‘I wanted to make it stop. Hell, I was ten years old. All that blood? The squealing? Made me sick.’ Daryl checks the safety of the crossbow before putting it aside. ‘He told me I had to shoot it to make it stop.’

‘Did you hit it?’

‘A crying ten year old pulling a 125 pound bow? Of course I didn’t hit shit, couldn’t even get the damn bolt in place. Had to watch it bleed to death while my daddy laughed.’

Rick closes his eyes for a second. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ his friend says. ‘Taught me to get good fast or he’d do it again.’

‘Did he ever do it again?’

‘Once,’ Daryl nods. ‘He cut the crap when I hit the rabbit before he’d even put it down. Got my ass whooped for it, of course,’ he smirks at his brother,  ‘but it was worth it. Only time I’d ever seen him almost shit his pants.’

Rick laughs softly and leans down to press a kiss to Carl’s hair. ‘Well, I’m glad you didn’t use the same methods on my boy. He had a blast learning. Thank you.’

‘Any time, man.’

‘Benjamin’s talking.’ The former cop looks at him again. He smiles a little. ‘That’s a good sign.’

‘Hmh.’

‘What he said?’ Rick asks, ‘about Merle? He didn’t mean it.’

Daryl huffs. ‘No, he did. If he snooped around with you guys to get know shit about my brother? Hmm. I know all y’all hated him. Don’t blame you neither. He was a piece of shit in the end.’

‘He was your brother.’

‘That don’t make him _good_. He was, though. Way back when we were little? He was good,’ Daryl murmurs as he brings up his thumb to gnaw on the nail. ‘Y’all didn’t know him.’

Rick nods but looks doubtful.

There are many stories Daryl could tell about the old Merle but he doubts that any of them would change Rick’s opinion of the man. It’s hard, even for Daryl now, to imagine Merle as a teenager. Strong as a horse and with that booming laugh as he’d lift his young brother to his shoulders and he walked him to school. How they’d built a fort in the woods even though Merle bitched about being too old for such childish things. Or how Merle would give him money in secret so he could buy pencils and paper so he could draw. The elation in his chest whenever Merle would stomp in for parent-teacher conferences instead of their old man and plop down on a seat next to Daryl, flashing him a wicked grin and defending him to a fault.

That even the whisper of him being close to home would send childhood bullies scurrying. Will Dixon might have destroyed their last name and reputation but Merle had rebuilt it with his knuckles and dangerously clever mind. Redneck trash, sure, but loyal to his blood and unforgiving to those who so much as looked at Daryl the wrong way.

Maybe he’d understood the apocalypse before it had even happened. The principle that good people need bad people watching over them in order to survive.

Of course, it hadn’t worked. Daryl is not a good man, not by a long shot. But he’s strong, stronger than most because he’s still alive in this world and he knows he’s got his brother to thank for that.

Rick rubs a hand over his eyes and scratches at his beard. He smirks at Daryl. ‘I heard what he said, and when I saw you walk away like that? I got so mad.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. It’s like…. You’re right, we didn’t like your brother one bit, but he’s your brother, and to hear Ben say that shit to you? It just made me mad.’

Daryl watches him. ‘What did you do?’

‘Just put him in his place.’ Rick doesn’t meet the hunter’s eye. ‘Nobody’s calling Merle a piece of shit but you, right?’

Daryl huffs out a breath of laughter. ‘Right.’

‘Except behind your back, ‘cause he was, man.’

Daryl’s gaze snaps to Rick.

The former cop is biting back a grin.

‘Best watch your mouth, ya stupid pig.’ The hunter’s features soften as he smiles, ducking his head a little so his hair hides most of his expression. There’s no heat or sting in his words.

‘I liked _officer friendly_ better,’ Rick tells him.

‘Ya liked _Merle_ better then?’ Daryl leers back.

‘No, I’m just saying, as far as nicknames go, you’re losing your touch.’

Sasha narrows her eyes and jumps into the conversation. ‘Daryl has a thing for nicknames?’

‘No, I ain’t got no-’

‘Yeah, he does!’

The brothers glare at each other.

‘Tell them, Carol,’ Rick says smugly, not taking his eyes off the hunter. ‘Does _Pookie_ here-‘

‘ _Shut your mouth_!’ Daryl hisses back.

‘Now, now, boys, don’t fight,’ Carol shushes them. ‘You’re both cute.’

The corner of Daryl’s mouth drags upwards as Tara sniggers. He leans back and cocks an arrogant eyebrow. ‘She liked me first though.’

‘Don’t mean she likes you better, brother.’

‘Does too.’

‘Does too,’ Carol nods in agreement.

Daryl claps his hands together silently and laughs at the faked shocked face Rick pulls. Abraham snorts and Tara bumps her fist with Carol. Michonne just shakes her head at their behavior, but when she looks at the flames the corners of her mouth slowly drag upwards.

The former cop huffs and slides down so he can curl his arm around Carl. ‘Traitor,’ he mutters into the dark hair of his son, but the skin around his eyes wrinkle as he smiles. ‘Who’s got the first night watch?’

‘I do,’ Daryl says as he gets up. ‘I’ll relieve Maggie. Glenn’s up after me.’

Rick’s already nodding off. ‘Good, that’s good…’

‘G’night, officer friendly,’ Daryl mutters affectionately as he slinks past the father and his teenager.

 

 

Several hours later a sleepy Glenn stumbles out into the darkness, clutching a sniper riffle and rubbing at his eyes. He’s wearing a baseball hat to cover his mussed hair. It reminds Daryl oddly of the Glenn he’d met in the quarry. Except this time, he swings the riffle to his back while yawning, so used to the gesture, and he slinks over to where Daryl is lounging.

‘Couple of minutes,’ Glenn yawns as a greeting.

Daryl nods.

The younger man shivers and stretches, then yawns again, his jaw actually cracking. A couple of minutes pass. Glenn sits up, wipes at his eyes and then brings the gun around so it rests on his knees. ‘Okay,’ he laughs softly, ‘I’m awake. I got it.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yeah.’

‘A’right,’ Daryl slaps him on the shoulder. ‘Eugene’s up next. See ya in the morning, man.’

The house is silent as he makes his way upstairs. There’s a guestroom at the end of the corridor that he claimed. Usually he shares it with Carol or Rick and Judith, depending on who’s on watch or whether Judith will sleep through the night. He slips into the room and places his bow on the bed.

‘Yoghurt with little bits of strawberry in it.’

Daryl’s heart hammers in his throat as his breath catches. He whirls around to see Benjamin standing in front of the window, looking out over the country side. The hands are stuffed in his pockets. He wobbles on the balls of his feet.

‘What the fuck?’

Benjamin turns around and leans back against the windowsill. He has lowered the hood at long last. The blond hair has gotten so long that it’s starting to curl at the ends. In the semi-darkness, all Daryl can make out of his face is the white bandage.

‘You asked me a couple of days ago what I didn’t miss about before,’ the blond tells him. ‘I don’t miss yoghurt with little bits of strawberry in it. Any kind of fruit, really. Or that fake chocolate. So really, I don’t miss yoghurt with bits in it.’

Daryl stills. ‘That so?’

‘Yeah. I think it’s disgusting. There’s too much happening. Yoghurt should be smooth. It feels unnatural to have to chew it.’ He tilts his head a little to the side and chuffs his boot on the floorboards. ‘I mean, if we came across it now I’d eat it in a heartbeat, but I don’t miss it.’

The hunter sits down on the edge of the bed. ‘Okay,’ he ventures because he’s not sure what to do.

Benjamin nods. ‘Having to wait to cross the street at night while there is nobody around because I was scared I’d get arrested for jay-walking if I ran a red light. That’s something else I don’t miss.’

A hesitant smile creeps on Daryl’s face. ‘ _Jay-walking_? Seriously?’

‘Do I look like a hardened criminal to you? Cops freaked me out. My grandma always threatened to call the cops whenever we were naughty at her house. She’d be standing there, phone in hand, going; _I’m calling the police, young man, and they’re going to take you to jail for being this naughty_!’

‘Ya were naughty ‘round a grandma? Means ya got balls of steel, man.’

Benjamin huffs out a breath of laughter. ‘I think you totally have the wrong idea about me. You think I was some goody-two-shoes who was afraid of breaking the rules and everything. I mean, I was too afraid to jay-walk but let me tell you; I once _stole_ a cookie from my grandmother.  She told me I couldn’t have anymore because I’d get myself sick but I took one from the tin when she wasn’t looking.’

Daryl smirks. ‘Bad ass.’

The blond nods. ‘Got sick, though.’

Daryl snorts and shakes his head. ‘Grandma’s were always right.’

‘Yeah. Listen, Rosita fell asleep on my bed and now Abraham’s up there too so, you know….' Benjamin’s voice trails off as he stares at his own boots. He glances up for just a second. ‘Do you mind if I sleep here tonight? I know Carol bunks with you sometimes but she’s downstairs with Judith and I tried to sleep at Tara’s but-‘

‘’s fine,’ Daryl cuts in. He gets up and shrugs out of his vest. A knife is strategically placed on his nightstand along with the gun that used to belong to Benjamin’s sister.

‘Okay,’ Benjamin sounds both nervous and relieved.

‘Night,’ the hunter says as he reclaims his spot on the double bed, throwing his feet up and folding one arm under his head. It’s too dark to see but he hears how the younger man makes his way over to the bed. The matrass dips as he sits down on the edge of it.

There’s a long pause.

‘Rosita didn’t really fall asleep on my bed though.’

‘I know. You’re a shitty liar, man.’ Daryl turns his head so he faces his friend.

‘Right.’ Benjamin slides further onto the bed and stretches out. The bed is big enough so their arms won’t brush but they can still feel each other’s body heat. ‘I talked with Rosita today about… things.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ Benjamin shifts on the bed and sighs. ‘You know I love you, right? I know I’m a shitty liar, a shitty friend, fuck, I’m a shitty person really, but…. I love you.’

‘I know,’ Daryl murmurs as he rolls over to his side. ‘Ya ain’t a shitty person, man. Tough times, is all.’

‘Tell me about it. It’s so weird, when it was happening, I didn’t even know it was fucking me up this badly. Mostly because I wasn’t even thinking about it, you know? I was just worrying about whether you would find out, or anyone else, what would happen if you did, how you would react. And then the shit hit the fan and everything just…. I don’t know.’ He rubs a hand over his face and then smooths his hair back. ‘It’s like I didn’t have time to think about what I’d done and now it’s just hitting me all at once.’

‘I get that, but it ain’t on you. You kept them all safe. That’s all there is to it.’

‘That’s not all there is,’ Benjamin objects softly. ‘I _know_ I did the right thing and I _know_ it wasn’t my fault, but it just _feels_ like I fucked up, like it was my fault it happened and if I’d only manned up back then it wouldn’t have happened at all. And then I’m like; okay, you were a dumb shit for making the deal, I get mad at myself which makes me mad at everyone else by default these days, so I tell Carl a fucked up story, then run off to be an asshole to you, get put in my place by Rick which makes me think I fucked up everything we ever had, which makes everything I’ve done to get here worthless, which makes _me_ worthless which….’

‘Stop.’

‘I can’t! That’s the point! I’m so mad, all the damn time and whenever I’m not mad, I’m scared out of my mind because every time I close my eyes, that lunatic is _right there_!’ Benjamin’s voice rises in pitch. ‘Every time someone says my name, it’s his voice I hear, fucking panting and moaning and _god_ , it’s driving me insane. He’s dead but he _haunts_ me. I know you didn’t ask for this, any of this, and honestly? I don’t understand how you’re still so goddamn understanding.’

Daryl huffs out a breath of amazed laughter. ‘Told ya to fuckin’ kill yourself if ya wanted to.’

Benjamin looks at him. ‘I can read between the lines. And you did say _I love you_ , so…’ He arches an eyebrow. ‘That still true?’

‘Hmm-hmm.’

‘Fucked up face and everything?’ The blond reaches out and traces Daryl’s jaw with his fingertips.

‘Yeah.’

Benjamin seems to hesitate for a moment before he leans in and kisses the hunter. Daryl breathes in sharply, a touch surprised despite the warning. The kiss is brief, just their lips bushing before they part again, but this time Benjamin scoots a little closer when he rests his head on the pillow.

Daryl can’t see his expression in the dark. The other man is just an outline, dark gray against the black of night.

‘I never did thank you.’

‘For what?’ Daryl asks with a small frown.

‘Xander. You ripped a man’s heart out of his chest.’

‘He’d hurt ya.’ The confession is easier to make in the darkness, when they can’t even see each other. Daryl wonders whether Benjamin can feel the heat that’s rising to his cheeks. ‘You’re not supposed to be thankin’ me. Should have done it the second I knew something were wrong.’

‘You couldn’t,’ Benjamin points out. ‘We needed him.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Did you kill Gabriel too? Davis said they’d found him in the church.’

‘I killed him,’ Daryl confirms. ‘Rick and I, hmm. We went down there, early, weren’t no-one around. Rick bullshitted something about the community, gassing up the tanks, stopping by to see that church, but he knew. The moment we stepped in? He knew he was done for. Shot him in the left shoulder, pinned him to the wall. Rick held him down so I could get his right wrist.’

‘You crucified a priest in a church?’

The hunter shrugs. ‘Weren’t never going to make it to heaven anyways.’

‘You are, but that’s beside the point,’ Benjamin dismisses easily.

‘We burned the church down. Rick poured the gas, I lit the fire. He begged, just before I did it, he begged for mercy.’

Benjamin shivers. ‘And you ripped Xander’s heart out.’

‘Yeah. Was so mad. I were mad before but then he was sitting on you with that knife… I just lost it. Didn’t even think about it. Tell ya what, that bastard was tough to skin. Wrigglin’ and squirmin’ like that.’

To his surprise, Benjamin laughs softly. He presses his face into the pillow and _laughs_. ‘Oh my God, you said _yeah_ and I just thought; _I love you so much right now_. That’s fucked up. I’m sorry.’ A hand sneaks over Daryl’s stomach to grip his hipbone while he slides his right leg between the hunter’s. He melts into the strong frame of his friend. ‘ _I_ am fucked up.’

Daryl reaches down to put a hand on the blond’s chin, forcing his gaze up until he can claim those lips once more. ‘Yeah, ya are,’ he says when they part. ‘And so am I.’

‘Being fucked up together with a secret dog in the middle of the apocalypse,’ Benjamin smiles as he rests his head on the hunter’s collarbone. ‘We’re never going to be okay.’

‘You’re wrong,’ Daryl wraps an arm around his friend. He buries his nose in the blond mop of hair. ‘You’re wrong. We’re going to make it, all the way to the end.’

‘And what end is that? Eaten by a walker? Murdered by a stranger?’

That’s exactly what Daryl thinks. One day they’re going to be ripped from their family by walkers, by strangers, sheer stupidity or mother nature. They are going to get sick or stabbed, they’ll get bit. They’ll die in a horrific way. He can feel it in his bones.

But he also remembers Benjamin, standing next to him at the library, lounging on those sofa’s, out on the road and still by his side, on top of a trailer, in tears in Daryl’s bedroom. How he’d first dreamed of a damn cubicle, then death before settling on a world restored.

Daryl sighs into Benjamin’s hair. ‘We found a place once. Maggie’s dad, Hershel, he took our group in when Carl got shot. He had this farm. Big-ass piece of land, woods nearby. This girl shot me, right? Hershel patched me up good, told me to sleep inside the house so he could keep an eye on the stitches. I remember waking up in the bedroom, walking down those stairs in the morning, sitting on the porch.

‘After my mom burned our house down? We moved from one hell hole to another. That damn trailer, meth holes later, just any dump I could afford when Merle got himself locked up for a while.

‘But that farm? Sitting on that porch? Felt like a pig in shit. I remember looking at Hershel, this old man with his family, his farm, and thinkin’; _yeah, just like that_.’ He kisses Benjamin’s hair. ‘That’s going to be the end.’

‘You think you’re going to die on the porch of your farm, with your family surrounding you, of what? A _natural_ cause?’

No, he doesn’t.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

And he’s a great liar because a tiny smile nudges the corners of Benjamin’s mouth up. He leans a bit more into the hunter. ‘That sounds nice.’ The green eyes snap open. ‘ _Not_ the dying part. Jesus, almost gave myself a heart attack thinking about it. That’s not what I meant. Ah, you know what I meant.’

Daryl nods. He does know what Benjamin means, even though he sometimes still has trouble believing it.

 

 


	4. Dark days, darker nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: suicidal thoughts and actions are described in this chapter. Description an attempt of self-harm.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning Daryl wakes up to the sound of birds right outside their window and the greenest pair of eyes he’s ever seen. Sunlight is filtering in through the dusty curtains, just a small strip of bright light cutting right through the shadows in the bedroom. Benjamin isn’t smiling but he has propped his head up on a hand as he leans on his elbow and stares down at the hunter who is struggling to wake up properly.

‘I’m sorry about what I said about Merle.’

‘What?’ Daryl rasps, voice deep and rough from sleep. He rubs a hand over his eyes and scratches at his semi-beard.

‘I’ve been thinking about it all night. Yesterday too. I knew it was wrong the moment I said it. I was just so angry, at myself mostly, a bit at you too, you know, for taking away my gun. I felt even more useless because of that. But it was wrong of me to say it,’ Benjamin tells him. ‘If anyone talked like that about my sister? I’d go ballistic.’

‘Yeah,’ Daryl stretches and closes his eyes against the light of morning. ‘Well, ya weren’t wrong. He was a mean son of a bitch.’

‘That’s not how you described him.’

‘No, he was.’ He opens his eyes again to stare at the ceiling. There’s a patch of mold in one of the corners. The white paint has turned green and brown. It grows between the cracks in the plaster. He follows the lines, tracing them all the way to the window and doorway. ‘Drugs had messed him up. Then the dead and this world. He’d done some fucked up shit back at Woodbury, to Glenn and Maggie.’

Benjamin settles back down on his pillow, fluffing it up a little and never taking his eyes off Daryl to urge him on.

‘Ya asked them about him? Hmm. Then _piece of shit_ was them bein’ nice about it.’ Daryl tugs at his fingernail with his teeth. ‘But that wasn’t my brother no more. Lost him way before the world went to shit. Him watchin’ while I got beaten to a pulp by his dealer? Nah, that weren’t him neither.’

‘When did you lose him then?’

‘The moment he started thinkin’ about leavin’ my ass behind. It weren’t like that in his mind. He just wanted out. The things my daddy did to me? Hmm, did the same to him. He just had the brains to get out, no matter what. Juvie first, the army later. He said that he didn’t know he did the same to me. But he left and dad needed a new punching bag.’

Benjamin reaches out carefully and runs his fingertips over Daryl’s arm. It tickles a little, not quite comforting but nice anyway. ‘But he came back to you, right?’

Daryl shrugs. ‘That’s what I told myself. Truth is, he didn’t have nowhere else to go.’

‘Your brother loved you.’

‘He was a Dixon, through and through. We don’t know how to love without the other one ending up dead or scarred for life.’ Daryl looks at Benjamin. ‘It’s goin’ to happen to you too.’ He lifts a hand to the younger man’s face, thumb brushing over the dirty bandage. ‘It already has.’

‘I don’t mind.’

Daryl scoffs at that. ‘Ya had a gun to your temple, ready to pull the damn trigger.’

‘Yeah, but this scar isn’t yours,’ Benjamin lifts his hand and folds it over Daryl’s, holding it steady while he shifts and kisses the palm. ‘This one was my own fault and I hate it. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore. I think your scar will be made in about thirty years? Forty? When you sit on that porch with your family and leave me behind. If you die before me, that’s when I’ll be scarred for life. And I won’t mind so much because it will hurt, but we’ll also have had time together. It’ll be bittersweet. I don’t want this life for you but I’ll never want you to leave me a second before you absolutely have to.’

Daryl looks at his friend. His heart is hammering in his chest, far too loud.

‘Not all scars are bad,’ Benjamin muses with a soft smile. ‘Ours are, of course, but I’d rather be maimed by your loss later than miss out on you now.’

Daryl curls his fingers around the back of Benjamin’s neck and gently guides him up until their lips meet. The younger man brings up a hand to rest on Daryl’s cheek, feeling his jaw move as he opens his mouth to welcome in that foreign tongue. It’s wet and hot. Their fringes mix, blond and brown.

He tastes different, Daryl realizes as he licks into Benjamin’s mouth. There’s no longer that tinge of mint there, the obsession with brushing his teeth every morning and evening has gone along with his hair product. Now, Daryl slides his hand through the dry blond hair and tastes that berry juice they’d found yesterday. It’s on the nightstand so he’s probably rinsed his mouth with it as he’d woken up. Or maybe he hasn’t slept at all.

Benjamin’s hand sneaks up to the front of Daryl’s shirt, popping a couple of buttons open so he can slide his hand over the broad chest. He smiles against the hunter’s lips, his breathing become heavier as the heartbeat picks up. ‘Fuck, I’ve missed you.’

‘Hmh,’ Daryl hums as he runs his hands down Benjamin’s sides to nudge his shirt up and caress the soft skin between his hipbones and ribs. ‘Are ya… this okay, after… I don’t wanna…’ Daryl groans a little as his words fail him again.

Benjamin frowns and hitches a leg up over Daryl’s hips to get closer. He mouths at the jawline before dipping his head low and licking a stripe from the base of his neck up to his chin, claiming another kiss. ‘What’s that?’ he murmurs.

‘Don’t wanna make you comfortable, ya know, touchin’ ya like this and all…’

‘You’re not him,’ Benjamin tells him. ‘I’ll tell you when I’m getting antsy, just like you will tell me, right?’

‘Right,’ Daryl nods. He runs his hands over the smooth skin of his friend’s back. The younger man melts into the strong frame of the hunter. Daryl can feel the muscles shift as he moves, hard and knotted under his hand. ‘Get off me,’ he murmurs.

Benjamin freezes. Green eyes blink up at blue ones, startled and surprised.

‘I mean,’ Daryl sighs and rubs at his eyes before swatting at the blond head, ‘get off me, I wanna…. Lay down, take off your shirt.’

‘Sure….’ Benjamin sounds hesitant as he rolls off the hunter and sits up to throw his shirt onto his backpack near the window.

 ‘On your belly,’ Daryl instructs.

The blond eyes him suspiciously but turns around and lowers himself on the bed again. One arm curls around his pillow, the other hand rubs over the matrass nervously.

The gaze of the hunter sweeps over the body spread out next to him. The strong lines of his shoulders, his spine, those ribs which are far too visible at the moment. He hesitates for a moment, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before grim determination sets in. He leans on one hand and throws a leg over, settling down on the small of Benjamin’s back.

The blond goes rigid. His hand digs into the matrass, fingers turning white from the pressure.

‘Relax,’ Daryl scolds him, ‘ain’t that heavy no more.’ He puts his hands on the younger man’s shoulders and squeezes.

‘No, you aren’t, but what are you- oh _damn_ that feels good.’ He huffs out a breath of laughter as Daryl ‘s thumbs dig into the muscles along his spine. ‘Oh God, you’re giving me a backrub?’

‘What the fuck else does it feel like?’

Benjamin snorts. ‘Nothing, just, feels good. Next time, just say that instead of telling me to fuck off.’

‘Didn’t tell ya to fuck off.’

‘Sounded like it,’ the blond murmurs. ‘That’s good, Daryl. Fuck.’

Daryl smiles a little and puts some pressure on the palms of his hands as he rubs them up Benjamin’s back, gliding over the smooth skin. The room is warm with the sun coming up, the soft light making the pale skin of his friend glow. Daryl can feel him relaxing under his touch. He likes the feel of the supple skin, the warmth of it, and Benjamin’s soft moans whenever he hits a good spot.

He leans down and kisses him between his shoulder blades.

Benjamin smiles in his pillow. He shifts so his arms are along his body now, with one of his hands curled around Daryl’s thigh. The fingers stroke over the jeans and muscles. ‘You know what’s humiliating?’

‘What?’ Daryl murmurs.

Benjamin groans, ‘you’re going to think I’m an idiot.’

‘Spit it out.’

‘I used to be _so_ handsome.’

Daryl snorts because that’s not what he’d been expecting, not because it isn’t true.

‘See? You’re laughing at me but it’s true! I used to be one handsome fucker, you know that? Everyone always thought so. My sister was beautiful too, so I guess we just had good genes or something. The amount of guys I had to threaten to break their legs if they broke her heart… it was like a day-job, man.’

Daryl kisses the base of his neck before pressing his fingers into the muscles of the lower back.

‘I looked in the mirror the other day. Took off the bandages and just stared for a while. It’s horrific, man. I’ll miss being handsome, is that weird? You’re laughing again, fuck you. I know beauty is supposed to be on the inside and everything and it is, I know that, but first impressions were kind of a big deal too, right?’

‘Still are. See someone out there now? Ya judge them, right there and then. Are they strong? Dangerous, alone? Real, fake, good, bad, ya gotta be quick to decide all that or you’re dead.’

‘Guess so,’ Benjamin nods. His fingers tighten on Daryl’s thigh. ‘What would a fucked up face tell you?’

‘That you’re one tough son of bitch,’ Daryl kisses his spine as his hands smooth over the ribs. ‘And that you’re not alone. Messed up stitches means you got someone who cared enough to try. Had it been your arm, ya could have done it yourself, but your face? Nah. Someone did that for ya. You got people lookin’ out for ya.’

The blond turns his head and glances at Daryl over his shoulder. ‘Yeah?’

‘’course ya do,’ Daryl rests his forehead on his shoulder for a second.

Benjamin squirms on the bed, turning over when Daryl lifts himself for a second. The blond gazes up at him. He rubs over his thighs and smiles. ‘I love you.’

‘Good,’ Daryl blushes a bit and moves off the other man, climbing out of the bed. He yanks the curtains aside to check the weather. He buttons up his shirt as he watches small clouds drift over the woods beyond the house. ‘Comin’? ‘ He throws over his shoulder before stooping low to tighten the laces of his boots. ‘I’m hungry.’

‘Yeah,’ Benjamin stretches with a satisfied groan. ‘Thanks for the backrub.’

‘Were strung tighter than the string on my bow.’

The blond smiles at that. ‘Guess so.’

‘Hurry up. Starvin’.’

‘That too,’ Benjamin sighs as he sits up. His shoulder slump a little. ‘What are we going to do? Do you think Rick really has a plan?’

‘No.’

‘That’s fucking great then.’ He plucks at the bandage covering his cheek.

‘We’ll be a’right.’

Benjamin looks at him for a couple of seconds. Then he smiles and hops out of the bed. ‘Yeah, we will be. Oh,’ he says when Daryl shoulders his bow to head downstairs, ‘before you go, do you have a second?’

Daryl narrows his eyes as a question.

‘Can you help change my bandage? No reason to bother Maggie when you’re around, right?’

The hunter puts down his bow. ‘Right,’ he nods.

 

They head downstairs half an hour later. Their heavy boots crashing on the staircase and voices light with banter. Benjamin laughs at something Daryl said as he zips up his hoodie and throws it over his hair, covering up again. Daryl wishes he wouldn’t but supposes that Rome wasn’t built in one day, or night, either.

The wound on his face is ugly. Post-apocalyptic stitches done by trembling hands. Of course it looks terrible. Even the fresh bandages don’t seem to be enough cover for the blond man.

Carol’s eyebrows rise when they enter while a knowing look dawns on Rick’s face as he balances his daughter on his knees.

Abraham, Glenn and Tara are getting ready for a run. The Korean checks his gun while Maggie packs his bag for him. He kisses her when she hands it to him. ‘Thanks. Any special requests?’

‘Toothpaste,’ Michonne and Benjamin say at the same time. ‘ _Spearmint_!’ They share a grin.

Everyone first stares at the blond as he walks over to the kitchen able, hopping on it with easy grace before pulling his knife out and sharpening it. Some of the blond strands fall into his eyes, annoying him a little. He grimaces and wipes them out of his face. He doesn’t notice everyone looking at him, or he chooses to ignore it. ‘Oh,’ he suddenly looks up. ‘Glenn? A razor and shaving cream if you happen to find some, okay? And some hair product, I don’t care what kind. I might be homeless, but I don’t have to look like it, huh?’

‘Sure,’ Glenn nods with a hesitant glance at Daryl.

‘Vain prick.’ The jab is dangerous, he knows. He watches his friend like a hawk while the comment registers.

Benjamin flashes him a rare grin. ‘Shut up, gorgeous.’

 

The change of mood doesn’t escape anyone, though everyone knows that all is not well yet. Abraham makes a crude joke about how Benjamin clearly got some again last night to explain his better mood and their whole family cringes. The red-head quickly realizes what he’s said after an sharp glare from Rosita but by the time he opens his mouth to apologize, Benjamin has disappeared again.

He likes to spend time with Judith, chasing her around the house now that she’s starting to get the hang of walking and talking. They play little games and babble about nothing in particular. It doesn’t surprise Daryl one bit that he’s great with her. Even when she paws at his face by accident, not understanding the fact that the bandage isn’t there for show, he never scolds at her, just winces and gently nudges her hands to his skin instead of the hidden scar.

It takes him a little longer to realize that there’s a hidden motive behind spending so much time with Ass-kicker. She never leaves the house. And she’s never left alone with the guy who doesn’t carry a gun anymore. Whether it’s Rick or Carl, or Carol or Michonne, there’s always someone nearby who’s both lethal and armed.

‘Do you want it back?’ Daryl asks one morning, holding out the familiar gun to Benjamin. ‘Go ahead.’

Benjamin still has Daryl’s gun in his holster. It only holds one bullet. He wobbles on the balls of his feet while biting on his lower lip. First, he makes a move to take it but changes his mind midway through the motion and lets his hand drop. ‘No,’ he murmurs. ‘No, you hang on to that for a little while longer.’

Daryl narrows his eyes.

‘I won’t,’ Benjamin promises him softly. ‘Sometimes I … No, not yet. Just keep it safe for me, okay?’

Daryl nods and does as he’s asked.

There are good days during which Benjamin horses around with Carl and Judith, he joins Rosita for her watch duty so they can discus things privately and he spends his nights curled up beside Daryl. He talks more, and even though the laughter still has trouble reaching his eyes, he does seem happier. Afternoons are passed with him and Abraham out on a lawn with the older man teaching him boxing, or in windowsills with Rick while the cop tells him stories about the old days.

There are dark days too. Days during which Benjamin doesn’t say anything, when he refuses to watch Judith and hides somewhere in the houses they’re squatting in and ignores Carl. And when he does say something, it’s a snide remark, aimed to hurt. He tries to pick fights with Rick and Abraham, daring them to get in his face and give him an excuse to lash out. They don’t, but that only causes the blond to get more frustrated.

There doesn’t have to be a reason for his mood swings. Anything can set him off these days.

Someone asking him a question, any reference to him not carrying a gun, Carl aiming a kick at a tin can when he wasn’t looking, Carol washing his clothes, Rick clapping him on the back, Maggie looking at him, Daryl following him when he goes outside for a second on his own.

Last night it was Tara who caused one of his rages by trying to start a conversation with him about her favorite book. He’d gotten up and stormed out, up the stairs and into one of the bedroom before Tara could finish her question.

‘What’s your favorite book, Ben?’ is still dying in the air when Daryl sighs and gets up to follow his friend in order to do some damage control.

There’s no point. Benjamin pretends to be asleep by the time he reaches the top of the stairs and Daryl isn’t even sure what he wants to say to the blond. To quit pissing everyone else off, to stop taking it out on his friends just because they’re easy targets, that Tara had meant well. All of that, none of that, really. He reckons it doesn’t matter anyway.

He just watches for a second how Benjamin lays there, hands still balled into angry fists and eyes squeezed shut. Then he turns on his heels and trudges down the stairs again, leaving him alone.

 

The house they’re squatting in now is smaller than what they’re used to. There aren’t nearly enough beds for all of them but no one cares. Rick is on the couch with Judith on his chest while Carl sleeps in the armchair nearby. Daryl throws an afghan over the boy as he walks by, heading upstairs when he comes back from smoking his cigarette and keeping Sasha company during her watch.

He passes the master bedroom, the door open to reveal the sleeping forms of Rosita, Maggie and Michonne on the bed. Abraham and Glenn are one the floor in a nest of blankets and pillows.

The second bedroom hosts Benjamin and Carol. It has a single bed which they share. Their heads are on the same pillow, their faces so close together that their noses brush whenever one of them moves. Carol’s hand is resting on the man’s hip, their boots knock together every once in a while.

Daryl kicks the left over blankets into a pile and carefully puts his bow down. He falls asleep to the soothing rhythm of his friends breathing.

When he wakes up hours later, he’s not sure why at first. His internal clock has been set on sun rise ever since the world went to shit because it’s the best time to get ready to hunt, but the room is still pitch black. It’s quiet too. No raised voices, boots stomping on the stairs, no gunshots.

It takes him a little while to get used to the darkness. Slowly the world turns gray instead of black and he can make out the outline of the unfamiliar furniture. The mirror in the corner, the closet, the television on the wall, the bed.

And with the world gray, he finally spots what has woken him up.

Benjamin is sitting up on the edge of the bed. His boots on the floor and hoodie zipped open to reveal his naked chest. The dog tags swing gently back and forth, bumping against his breastbone when he shifts.

His knife is in his hand.

He’s staring at it. He lets it balance on the palm of his hand before pushing the left sleeve up past his elbow.

The blade hovers above his skin.

Daryl watches with baited breath. He can’t tear his eyes away, can’t move, can’t say anything. He just watches, captivated.

Benjamin stares, hesitates, pushes the blade against his skin but not hard enough to make a mark. With a soft curse he carefully removes the blade, stuffs it into the sheath on his belt before kissing his wrist and getting up.

He walks over to where Daryl is sleeping.

‘Daryl,’ he whispers, ‘wake up, man. Hey. _Wake up_.’

Of course, Daryl is already awake, but he pretends to rouse from sleep anyway. ‘What?’ he croaks.

Now that the other man is awake, Benjamin doesn’t seem to know what to say. He kneels down beside his friend, hand on his knife and a frown on his face. ‘I just….’ He starts but trails off.

‘I was dreamin’,’ Daryl murmurs because he had been.

‘Yeah?’

‘Hmm-hmm.’ The hunter stretches. ‘Was weird. Merle was bitchin’ ‘bout something.’

‘About what?’

‘Don’t remember now. Fuck, last time I dreamt about him, I was about to get eaten by a damn walker.’ Daryl rubs the sleep out of his eyes and swats at Benjamin’s knee. ‘Quit your hoverin’. Sit your ass down.’

Benjamin sits down with his back against the wall, long legs stretched out before him. The hunter gazes up at the ceiling as he tells the story about the search for Sophia, how his horse had gotten spooked by something and he ended up in the lake, pierced by his own arrow. It doesn’t take long before tentative fingers start to card through his brown hair. He grunts and shifts a little closer, the top of his head against Benjamin’s thigh, while he tells about Merle mocking him, calling him a used rubber.

‘He was standin’ right there,’ Daryl murmurs,’ callin’ me a pussy, tellin’ me to kick off them high heels and climb.’

Benjamin grins down at him. ‘But you got to the top of the ridge?’

‘Yeah, ‘cause I wanted to kick his teeth in and shut him up.’

Benjamin snorts, ‘hallucination or not, your brother sounds like quite the character. I’m sad I never got to meet him. But I’m also kind of glad he never got the chance to beat me up for lusting after his baby brother.’

‘Me too,’ Daryl says. ‘To both.’ He squints up at his friend, craning his neck so he can look him in the eye. ‘What about Charlotte? Tough as nails, right? Would she have stumped my ass?’

‘In the beginning, maybe, yeah,’ Benjamin grins and leans down to kiss his forehead. ‘ _Ain’t no fag_. As said by Daryl Dixon, the library, lightyears ago. She wouldn’t have liked that, but would have whooped your ass in line faster than I did, that’s for sure. But seriously? I think she would have liked you in the beginning, and grown to love you.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because I did.’

‘Ya turned in a girl overnight or what? Tellin’ me ya love me every chance ya got?’ There’s no sting in the words as the hunter grins up at his friend.

‘Haven’t taken a piss yet, so can’t _really_ be sure, but it’s doubtful.’

Daryl snorts.

‘Just want to make sure that you know.’ Benjamin shifts and crawls around so he’s beside the hunter. ‘Go back to sleep, it’s way before sunrise. Want me to fuck off back to the bed?’

‘Why’d ya wake me up in the first place?’

Benjamin folds an arm under his head and stares at him in the darkness. ‘I dunno. Thought about doing something stupid.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Didn’t though,’ he points out. ‘I woke you up instead.’

Daryl grunts and buries his face in the blanket that’s draped over his backpack and is now serving as his pillow. ‘A’right.’

‘All right?’ Benjamin echoes, disbelief clinging to the words.

‘Andrea,’ Daryl mutters, ‘the girl who shot me? She tried to give up once too, back at the CDC.’

Benjamin doesn’t know anything about the CDC but he still nods because he knows it must have been something between the end of everything and the library.

‘Shit went down but she got out. Asked her once whether she wanted to live or not.’

‘What did she say?’

‘That she didn’t know.’

Benjamin waits for him to continue but after a couple of seconds it’s clear that Daryl has no intention of doing so. The hunter’s breathing is slowing, his eyes are closed. ‘What’s that got to do with me?’ the blond whispers.

Daryl huffs in annoyance at having to explain himself. ‘Ya fuckin’ woke me up,’ he grumbles. One hand snakes over to the bony hip of his friend and holds on possessively. ‘You _do_ know.’

Benjamin nods a little. He shifts to get more comfortable. ‘I guess...’

‘Ya done with this bullshit then?’ the hunter yawns. ‘We need ya ‘round, man.’

‘Yeah,’ Benjamin answers. ‘I’m done with this bullshit.’

Just before sleep claims Daryl again, a sense of dread washes over him. And, too late, does he realize that he’s not sure what Benjamin qualifies as bullshit anymore. His half-hearted thoughts about endings. Or life.

 

 


	5. Looking fresh

 

* * *

 

 

‘ _Wake up_!’

A heavy boot lands between Daryl’s ribs. He groans and rolls away. A coughing fit forces him to lay on his side. He chokes on his own breath and saliva for a second.

‘Good, you’re awake.’ The heavy boots stomp over towards the bed. It creaks when someone sits down on the edge. ‘What were you thinking?’

Daryl spits on the floorboards to clear his throat and mouth before glaring up at Rosita, who’s glaring right back at him. ‘The fuck is your problem, woman?’

‘You want the whole list or a summary?’

‘Kick me again? Hmm. Ya best be ready to lose that damn foot.’

‘You ask my friend who’s going through depression after being raped by some asshole whether _he’s done with this bullshit_ again? You best be ready to eat a bullet, okay?’

‘You threatening me?’

‘Are _you_ threatening _me_?’

 Daryl sits up and wipes his hair out of his face. ‘Yeah, I was. Ya deaf? Good lord.’ After a second, and with a hand pressed to his ribs, he gets up to stretch. He’s pretty sure the imprint of the girl’s boot is on his flesh but he’s too proud to check. Instead, he just winces a little as he reaches down to grab his crossbow.  

It’s light outside, he realizes. Both Benjamin and Carol are gone from the room.

‘Where’s Carol?’

‘Downstairs.’ Rosita folds her arms in front of her chest and stares him down. She’s wearing one of the shortest shorts Daryl has ever seen on a girl and a low-cut shirt. The dark hair is up in a high ponytail. Sweat runs down her elegant neck. There’s blood on her gloves which means she probably had the early watch shift this morning and had to deal with a couple of walkers. The army cap has been clipped to her belt, right next to her bloody knife and the holster of her gun. Her hiking boots thud on the floorboards when she shifts. Long legs cross at the knee. ‘What?’ she cocks an eyebrow. ‘Is that all you have to say?’

‘What time is it?’

‘What _time_ is it?’ Her eyebrows rise incredulously. ‘Who knows? Just after sunrise.’

Daryl grunts and shrugs his vest on.

‘Benjamin is gone.’

‘So? He’ll be back.’

‘No, he’s _gone_ , Daryl. He took his pack! He got up early, he took his pack with him and now he’s gone. What did you tell him?’

The hunter glares at the young woman. ‘Didn’t tell him nothing.’

‘You gave him a gun to shoot his brains out with!’

‘And he didn’t!’

‘He’s _gone_!’ Rosita screams, standing up to be on eyelevel with the larger man. She stalks over and pushes him, hard. ‘You gave him a gun with a single bullet and now he’s gone!’

Daryl balls his fists as his back hits the wall. ‘Touch me again and you’ll regret it.’

She shoves his shoulder. They both know he won’t hurt her, just as they both know that she could have made that shove hurt if she wanted to. _’You’re going to get him killed_!’

There are running footsteps on the stairs. Carl comes flying around the corner, one hand on his gun and the other on the doorpost to fling himself into the room. He stares at his two friends, breathing hard for a second. ‘Stop shouting! I could hear you outside, you’ll draw every walker here! And Judy is sleeping!’

‘I don’t give a damn about her beauty sleep,’ Rosita shouts at him. ‘Benjamin is gone and Daryl doesn’t give a fu-‘

‘What are you talking about?’ Carl frowns, ‘he went with my dad on a run into that town down the road.’

‘ _What_?’

‘Yeah,’ the teenager shifts his weight awkwardly. ‘Glenn said there was, like, a small convenience store, a couple of blocks from the one they hit last time they went. My dad wanted to check it out before we move on.’

‘And he took _Ben_?’

‘He offered. They left just before sunrise.’

Rosita huffs and crosses her arms, ‘I didn’t see them leave.’

‘You and Sasha were dealing with those walkers. I watched their backs until they were down the road and into the woods. Dad said I should stay here, keep an eye on Judith and this place.’ He rubs at the side of his nose and glances at Daryl. ‘He said you weren’t going out hunting today, so maybe I could have another lesson?’

‘Whatever,’ Daryl grouses.

The teenager beams. ‘Thanks! I’ve been training! Well…’ He flushes a little, ‘Benjamin taught me how to do push-ups this morning.’

The hunter snorts dismissively. ‘What’s so difficult about damn push-ups that you need to learn?’

‘Nothing, I guess,’ Carl mutters. ‘He just showed me how to do it properly. Sit-ups too. Anyway, he made breakfast. It’s cold now, but still tastes good. I’ve put it in the kitchen for you.’

‘Thanks,’ he shoulders past Rosita. ‘You done now, lady?’

She huffs and glares at his back while he makes his way downstairs with Carl.

 

It’s midday when Daryl and Carol are sitting on the lawn of their temporary home. The sun is beating down on them. There’s sweat running over their backs which are pressed against the wall. Carol is on guard duty. There’s a large gun on the ground next to her but there are no walkers or other threats in sight.

‘Maybe we should find other people,’ Carol says as her gaze slides over their lawn and the field beyond. ‘There are still good people out there. We could find a place like Genesis. One that could work for us.’

Daryl plucks at his fingernails.

‘We’re going in circles now. And we’re wasting our resources.’

Daryl nods.

‘Why aren’t we going to that army base we talked about before Genesis?’

‘’cause we cut and ran,’ Daryl murmurs. ‘And we ran the fuckin’ wrong way. By the time we thought about that plan, hmm. Won’t ever make it now.’

‘Then we have to think of another plan,’ Carol looks at him. ‘I get that we were taking our time, with Benjamin how he was but,’ she gives him a small smile, ‘he’s doing better now. We need a goal again. Everyone is starting to get bored and anxious. It’s exhausting to just sit around and wait for Rick to decide to move to the next house.’

‘So what are we supposed to do?’

‘I don’t know. Find a place, I guess. Something we can all put our efforts in, to stop us from going at each other’s throats.’

‘Too late for that,’ Daryl scoffs. ‘Already had Rosita all over my ass this morning.’

Carol’s smile grows a little. ‘She and Ben are close friends. Have been since before Genesis. You can’t be mad at her for looking out for him.’

‘Ain’t. Got mad ‘cause she stomped my ribs to fuckin’ wake me up. Stupid bitch.’

The woman next to him laughs and checks his shoulder with hers. ‘Be nice. She meant well.’

‘Didn’t make it hurt less,’ Daryl grouses but he flashes her a rare smile. ‘She got one hell of a kick on her, that’s for sure.’

‘Yeah.’ Carol draws her legs up and loops her arms around her knees, leaning into the strong frame of her best friend. He lets her. Her head on his shoulder, the coarse gray hair tickles his neck and cheek. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Why?’

‘Because everyone is so worried about Benjamin, we just assume that you are fine. You killed two men.’

He tenses. ‘So?’

‘Don’t act like it doesn’t bother you.’

‘Were bad people.’

‘Yeah.’

He looks out over the fields. Then brings up his hand nervously, biting at the flesh of his thumb. ‘Know what’s fucked up?’ he murmurs.

‘What?’ Carol asks.

‘Don’t bother me none. ‘s what Michonne always says, right? Bad people, light as a feather.’

‘They weren’t ours. Those people in Genesis, they weren’t part of our family,’ Carol says. ‘The moment we got there, we knew something wasn’t right. In our bones, we knew it. And Gabriel was always useless. We stuck together. I mean, we tried, but they weren’t really ours. It would have hurt you if they had been one of us.’

‘Hmm-hmm.’ He plucks at his boot before squinting up at the sun, checking the time.

‘You’re a good man, Daryl Dixon.’

‘Stop.’

She peeks at him through her fringe, ‘and when I saw you this morning on the floor with Ben curled up beside you? You’re pretty dang cute too.’

‘Pffft,’ he pushes her away from him. ‘ _Stop_.’

She laughs, ‘I thought about draping a blanket over you guys, tucking you in properly. Two peas in a pod, the pair of you.’

‘Good lord,’ he tries to glare at her but has to bite back a grin. ‘It’s plenty hot without a damn blanket.’

‘You two are that,’ she nods and has to duck away to avoid being swatted at. She scrambles to her feet and hoist the gun onto her back. ‘I’m going to walk my rounds. You just sit here and wait for your man to get back.’

Instead of another dismissive comment or flat out refusal, he ducks his head. ‘Yes ma’am.’

 

The sun is about to set when Benjamin and Rick return. The temperature is now bearable so almost everyone is lounging outside on their lawn. Judith is stumbling after a ball Carl found in the shed. It’s so soft that it makes a thumping sound every time he kicks it, but that doesn’t matter. He, Glenn and Tara are passing it around while the little girl shrieks every time the ball passes her by. Every once in a while Carl will gently kick it towards her so she can grab it triumphantly, nearly tumbling over it in the process.

Sasha is the first to notice the return of their friends. She’s on the roof of the house with her beloved sniper riffle. A sharp whistle causes Daryl’s head to jerk up from the piece of wood he’d been carving.

The sun is dying at the horizon and the whole land seems to be made of lava. Bright orange with patches of red and yellow. Rick and Benjamin are shadows, slowly moving towards them. When they break the tree line, Rick raises a hand at them to signal that they’re friendly and are all right.

‘Come on, Judy,’ Carl tells his sister, ‘race you to dad.’

The little girl takes off, bounding over the grass towards her father. She stumbles a few times but manages to stay up. Carl strides along beside her. He doesn’t even have to run to keep up but pretends to do so anyway.

‘Hey Judith!’ Rick breaks out into a run to meet his daughter halfway. He swing her up in the air, twirling her around before settling her on his hip. Then he brings his son in for a tight hug. ‘Hey bud.’

‘Hey dad, everything okay?’

‘Yeah, we’re good.’

Daryl’s gaze glides from the happy family to Benjamin, who was walking beside the sheriff and now catches up to them again. Now that he’s closer, the hunter can see his features more clearly. The heavy army boots, filthy with mud and blood, those light colored jeans that ride low on his hips. He’s not wearing a shirt. The pale expanse of skin is sun-kissed and gleaming with sweat.

The muscles of his abdomen ripple when he walks. He’s using his shirt to wipe away the sweat from his neck and brow before stuffing it between his belt and hip. He carries his usual black backpack. It looks heavy.

The blond hair is swept back from his face. He’s laughing.

Daryl stares at him, gaze roaming over the body of the blond hungrily. He shifts a little, adjusting himself in his jeans and licking his lips unconsciously.

‘We’re great, kid,’ Benjamin tells Carl. ‘Was a trip and a half, and your dad says it wasn’t worth it but he will see things differently soon enough.’

The teenager looks between him and his dad. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing,’ Rick says quickly. ‘He got a sunstroke, don’t mind him.’

‘Just be sure to give her the present, man,’ Benjamin grins as he hitches his backpack higher onto his back. ‘She’s going to love it.’

‘You got Judy a present?’ Carl asks curiously.

‘No, not Judy,’ Rick says before groaning a little and shoving the teenager towards the house. ‘Don’t start sticking your nose in too. Come on, did you have dinner yet?’

‘No,’ Carl looks like he wants to poke around some more but settles down when Rick gives him a pointed look. ‘We waited for you guys. Abraham is cooking it up now. Daryl got us rabbits. What kind of stuff did you find?’

The kid opens the low gate at the end of the lawn for his father but Benjamin just hops over the fence. He’s grinning as he strides up to the house. ‘All kinds of semi-useless stuff. No ammo, no real food, sorry guys. The place had been raided.’ Benjamin passes Rosita, who is sitting on the ground, and he strokes her hair in greeting. ‘But, I do have a backpack full of things we need.’

‘The anticipation is killing us,’ Michonne drawls sarcastically from where she’s lounging in the grass.

Benjamin dumps his backpack on the porch next to Daryl. ‘Hey,’ he gives the hunter a quick smile as he opens his pack and reaches in it. ‘Okay, act like that, Mich. Guess I don’t have to share this brand new tube of toothpaste then, huh? Oh, and you don’t need this new toothbrush either then, okay, okay.’

Her head snaps up, ‘you found toothpaste?’

‘ _Spearmint_ ,’ Benjamin grins back. He throws her a tube and toothbrush still wrapped in plastic. ‘You’re welcome.’

‘I love you.’

‘Rick found it,’ the blond says. ‘I just carried it like a loyal mule.’

Michonne turns to Rick. She opens her mouth, closes it again and looks down at the tube. ‘Thanks.’

‘What?’ Rick glances at Benjamin before looking down at the dark-skinned woman. He hitches Judith a little higher onto his hip. ‘He gets an _I love you_ and I get _thanks_?’

‘Know your role, these are the facts,’ Benjamin says with a snap of his fingers. ‘I’m just loveable and you’re… grateful-able? Whatever. That’s a thing now. I made it a thing. What else do we have? Ah. Shaving cream, razors. Deodorant, fuck me, I cleaned out the whole damn personal hygiene department. Anyone wanting to look fresh? Holler at me.’

Tara snorts but still claims a bar of soap by snatching it out of the blond’s hand.

‘Got some generic painkillers, stomach stuff,’ Benjamin mutters as he throws the boxes onto the porch. ‘Things the kids don’t need to hear about,’ he says as he throws a package of condoms at Maggie. ‘Or any of us for that matter. We don’t want to hear about it.’

‘Thanks, Ben,’ Maggie smiles at him, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun.

‘Yeah, yeah. Listen, after dinner, can you do something for me?’

‘What?’

‘Can you cut my hair? It’s a _mess_. I used to do it myself, but last time I almost cut my own ear off, so I figure it might be better to hand the scissors over this time.’

‘Why are you asking _me_?’ Maggie laughs. ‘I can’t cut hair!’

‘Christ all mighty, it’s not rocket science, just a snip - no, _not_ you,’ he says when Rick opens his mouth to say something. ‘You’ll fuck it up, I know you will.’

‘Nah, I’d just shave it off. You wouldn’t have to worry about it for months ‘nd months.’

Benjamin frowns, ‘you got a 100 inch beard, you don’t know how to handle a razor and your own face, how do you think you are even remotely qualified to touch a single hair on my head? Carol, you can do it, right? You can give me a decent cut?’

‘Sure, sunshine,’ Carol smiles warmly as him.

‘Thanks, love,’ he beams when he settles down next to Daryl on the porch. ‘See?’ He arches an eyebrow at Maggie, ‘it’s not that hard. Thanks for nothing.’

Rick sits down on the ground next to Michonne. Judith crawls into the woman’s lap for a nap. ‘Why are you all hatin’ on the beard?’ he asks.

‘It makes you look like a crazy caveman,’ Michonne tells him flatly.

‘Oh.’

Daryl smiles when Benjamin beside him explodes with laughter. He leans back and observes his friend throughout dinner. The way he brushes the blond hair out of his eyes before taking a careful sip of the soup Abraham has made. The dog tags that rest on his naked chest, the traces of a sunburn on those cheekbones.

When the temperature drops, Benjamin shrugs his leather jacket on without putting his shirt back on first. He rolls up the sleeves past his elbows and laughs at something Eugene says.

Daryl tears his gaze away just long enough to eat his own dinner.

Benjamin stretches and sighs happily when he’s done. He aims a kick at Rick’s shoulder with his heavy boot. ‘Was a good day, man. Thanks for letting me tag along.’

‘You had my back,’ Rick nods. ‘Thank you.’

‘Yeah, well,’ the blond lets his head loll back so he can look at Daryl. ‘We need to talk about me getting my gun back because I kind of need it.’

‘Yeah, let’s talk.’ He grabs his friend by the shoulder and hauls him off the porch.

‘Whoa,’ Benjamin stumbles but let’s himself be dragged away. He doesn’t struggle as Daryl shoves him forward, towards the shed that’s on the other side of the house. ‘Listen,’ he says, looking back at the hunter, who stalks behind him. ‘I know you’re worried about me doing something stupid, but I really have made up my mind, and I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean it. Truly. I promise I won’t do anything I will regret, okay? I’d feel more useful to have it on me again. And it will help to keep the group safe,’ they round another corner, now on the other side of the shed, closer to the woods and out of sight from the group. ‘You really don’t have to worry about me-‘

‘Shut up,’ Daryl growls as he pushes Benjamin against the back of the shed and kisses him.

A hand in that blond mop of hair, the other one gliding beneath that leather jacket, over his side to his back, just above his belt. Daryl presses his body against Benjamin’s, holding him close as he kisses him.

Benjamin moans and loops his arms around the strong shoulders of the archer.

That gives Daryl the opportunity to slip his tongue into the other man’s mouth. He groans at the sensation. One of his hands wanders over the warm skin of Benjamin’s back until it comes to rest on his leather belt while the other moves from the blond hair to that strong jawline. His thumb brushes over his unblemished cheek.

Daryl’s brain feels fuzzy. For a brief moment he wonders how he’d ever resisted this, or why anyone would object to how right this is. The way they fit together, their bodies pressed close until there’s nothing but heat between them. Their lips finding an easy rhythm, hungry and eager, only coming apart to let small sounds escape.

‘Fuck,’ Benjamin breathes as he adjusts the angle, their noses bumping together. He licks Daryl’s bottom lip, teasing the mouth open again. ‘God, you’re so hot.’

Daryl hums into their next kiss. ‘You’re one to talk.’ With his thumb he nudges Benjamin’s jaw, pushing it upwards so he can suck a mark on his neck. His hand moves from his back to that chest, fingertips following the strong lines of his muscles, moving over the ripples of his ribs to those pink nipples.

‘Fuck yeah.’ Benjamin tilts his head back to give him better access. He leans against the wall, one arm coming up so he can wrap a hand around his own neck. He plants the other one on the wall to keep himself steady as Daryl kisses down his neck. The hunter licks that spot on his collarbone before dipping lower and closing his mouth over the left nipple. He kisses it, lets his teeth graze over it before sucking, hard.

Benjamin moans and whimpers.

Daryl presses kisses over the man’s ribs before moving down his abdomen. He sinks to his knees to get better access to the soft skin of the man’s belly. Rough hands on that warm skin, he loves to feel the muscles flex when Benjamin bucks his hips lightly.

‘Jesus,’ the blond whispers. One of his hands drops down so he can run it through Daryl’s hair, sweeping it out of the older man’s face. ‘Fuck, you’re gorgeous.’

Daryl sucks a mark just above the belt buckle. His hand comes to rest on the metal. Benjamin’s erection is pressing against his wrist and his mind suddenly catches up with his body again. He realizes his position, his hands on that belt buckle, tongue trailing down that patch of hair leading to the crotch. He freezes.

‘Daryl?’ Benjamin frowns, bucking his hips a bit to get some friction from the other man’s hand and wrist, ‘what’s – oh, no, no, you’re fine, get back up here,’ he grabs Daryl by his bicep and hauls him back to his feet. ‘Don’t have to if you don’t want to,’ Benjamin cups his face with both of his hands.

Daryl closes his eyes and breathes through his nose for a second. ‘Want to,’ he mutters.

‘No, you don’t,’ Benjamin laughs softly, ‘but that’s okay. Look at me.’

The green eyes are dark with lust. Daryl’s hands move back to his sides, rubbing circles into the warm skin as he slots their hips together again. His own hard-on pressing against Benjamin’s. Their lips find each other’s again, tongues curling together.

‘Here, lemme-‘ Benjamin reaches down so he can undo the buttons of Daryl’s jeans. He leans his head to the side to look what he’s doing and Daryl takes the opportunity to suck on his earlobe, trailing open mouthed kisses down that sharp jawline.

His hands mirror Benjamin’s movements, first unbuckling that belt before fumbling with the buttons of the jeans. Daryl hisses when Benjamin reaches his goal first and pushes the hunter’s underwear down, freeing his cock to the colder night air.

‘You good with this?’ Benjamin checks, breathless and with his forehead pressing against Daryl’s. They steal kisses from each other, those frantic nips in between soft moans and the rustling of their clothes.

‘Yeah,’ Daryl pants as he folds his hand over Benjamin before guiding it to his hard cock, wrapping those slim fingers of the other man around the heated flesh. ‘God,’ he groans, ‘can I…?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ the blond uses his left hand to push his own underwear down his thighs, just far enough to release himself. ‘Fuck, you feel good,’ he twists his hand, pumping it up and down Daryl’s shaft. There’s pre-come dribbling over the head. Benjamin flicks his thumb over the slit, wiping it up before bringing his finger to his mouth. He licks it up.

‘Fuck,’ Daryl groans at the sight. His hand trembles when he reaches down and wraps his fingers around Benjamin’s cock. It feels strange, foreign, and he’s not sure what he’s doing, but Benjamin moans and lets his head thud back against the wood of the shed, eyes closed in bliss, so he must be doing something right. His own dick twitches at the sight. There’s heat pooling in his stomach, that familiar sensation tingling up his spine. ‘I’m close,’ he breathes and he strokes his friend.

‘Don’t stop,’ Benjamin pants, ‘please, God,’ he reaches down and changes Daryl’s hold on him, guiding his hand a couple of times until the hunter knows the best rhythm. ‘Yeah, perfect, like that… you’re good, so _good_. Please don’t stop.’

‘Oh, I won’t stop,’ Daryl whispers in Benjamin’s ear, licking the earlobe before sucking lightly on it. ‘I’ve been hard for ya all evening.’ The words feel strange on his tongue but he pushes past the feeling when Benjamin whimpers. ‘Ever since you sucked me off, hmm, I’ve been thinkin’ about those lips wrapped around my thick cock. ‘s what ya want, right?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ the blond nods, bucking his hips so he’s fucking Daryl’s hand. ‘I’m close, fuck…’

Daryl swallows thickly. ‘Come for me, then.’

‘Yeah, I’m, nngh,’ Benjamin bites on his bottom lip in an attempt to keep quiet. He lets go of Daryl in order to loop his arm around his shoulders, keeping him close and rubbing their cocks together. Daryl grabs hold of both of them, groaning low in his chest, that deep rumbling sound as he feels his own balls draw up.

‘Gonna fuck you,’ he tells his friend, softly and right into his ear, in between moans of pleasure. ‘One day, I’m gonna fuck ya so good.’

Benjamin’s hips stutter, he groans and all his muscles in his shoulders, belly and arms tense until he comes all over Daryl’s hand and cock. He slumps against the wall, head tilted back in bliss as his release washes over him. There are little twitches in his body from the aftershocks but then he relaxes entirely, arms falling limp beside his body.

The sight of it is enough to push Daryl over the edge too. He buries his face in the crook of his friend’s neck and holds his breath as he comes, silently, with his whole posture tensing before his body sags against Benjamin’s.

Their breathing is ragged, and sweat is slicking their skin, now rapidly cooling as the night falls around them. Daryl draws his hand back, fingers coated with cum as he reaches for his rag to wipe it off.

Then he cleans both of them, being gentle with the overly sensitive skin before tucking himself away and buttoning his jeans back up.

Benjamin does the same, underwear and jeans before buckling his belt again. Then he lazily loops his arms around Daryl’s shoulder to draw the older man back into a loose hug. ‘That was amazing.’

‘Just a hand-job,’ Daryl murmurs.

‘Yeah, but it was _your_ hand, which makes it amazing by default,’ Benjamin counters. Daryl can hear the smile in his voice. ‘God, know how many times I imagined that? Blue balls, man. You have no idea.’

Daryl presses a kiss into the neck of his friend.

‘And it only took me prancing around half-naked to set it off too,’ Benjamin muses and he laughs when Daryl bites him, gently. ‘Joking,’ the blond tells him with a fond kiss to his temple. ‘You smell great, anyone ever told you that? All forest-y. Bit sweaty too and-‘

‘Good lord, shut up, will ya?’

‘Nope,’ the bond tightens the hug, ‘I’m never shutting up again. I’ve been shutting up a long while now, you didn’t like that much either.’

Daryl snorts and pushes himself away from the younger man.

Benjamin laughs and checks their clothes once more before zipping his jacket up, pushing up the sleeves past his elbows. ‘We good?’

Daryl nods, ‘hmm-hmm.’

‘Good,’ Benjamin drags himself away from the wall and falls in step beside his friend. They walk back towards the house. ‘I’ve got a lot of saved-up stuff to say, by the way.’

‘Yeah?’ Daryl sounds vaguely amused and curious.

‘Yup. It was like I was in this haze, right? Nothing really registered properly, except for the fact that I had failed you guys and, you know, every other depressed thing I could think of, but some things… They just _register_ , okay?’

‘Like what?’

‘You look fucking hot on that bike.’ Benjamin shoves Daryl’s shoulder when the other man rolls his eyes. ‘I’m serious. There I’d be, wallowing in guilt and depression, next to Rosita in the car and you’d tear by on your bike and I’d be all; so guilty, everyone hates me- _dang son, look at that_!’

‘Stop,’ Daryl laughs.

‘Okay,’ they share a grin and bump their shoulders together. ‘True though,’ Benjamin says. ‘ _My two favorite things in life are libraries and bicycles. They both move people forward without wasting anything. The perfect day: riding a bike to the library_. Peter Golkin. They were probably referencing to a different kind of bike but the point is still valid because they’d probably never seen you on a bike before and thus don’t know that there’s nothing wasted then either.’

The words make Daryl’s head spin but he still laughs, blushing a little. ‘You’re a fuckin’ idiot.’

‘On the contrary. I’m terribly clever. That’s not even bragging,’ Benjamin says when Daryl snorts. ‘Just facts. You’re hot and I’m clever.’ He ducks his head and smiles to himself when they get near to the house and within earshot of their family again. ‘Did your brother teach you how to ride a motorbike?’

‘Sort of. Stole his bike when he was on a bender. Wasn’t hard to figure out how it worked.’

‘Did you ever crash it?’

‘No. Totaled a car once. Was so high and wasted, I hardly noticed until I found it wrapped around a tree the next day. Fuckin’ stupid,’ Daryl shakes his head at the memory, ‘could have fuckin’ killed someone that night.’

‘Yeah, that sounds pretty stupid.’

‘I was,’ Daryl nods.

‘ _Was_ ,’ Benjamin emphasizes as they rejoin their family.

The hunter flashes him a final, small smile. His blood is still a tad bit warmer than it was before, his bones softer; the lingering effects of the other man’s hands on him, those quiet moans of ecstasy in his ears. Better than any drug he ever had. A quiet has settled in his chest, wrapped around the anxious feeing this new world always entices and hiding it for a while. It’s enough for him to be able to fall into the grass next to the house and close his eyes, listening to the quiet voices of his family.

‘Good talk?’ Rick asks as he looks up at Benjamin, who joins Daryl on the ground. There’s a smirk playing around his lips.

‘Yeah,’ Benjamin nods. He ignores Tara’s sniggers and Rosita’s knowing look. ‘Did you give Michonne her present yet?’

Daryl cracks one open to look at his brother, who flushes instantly.

‘No,’ Rick says, sounding a bit defensive, just as Michonne asks; ‘you got me a present?’

‘I got you the toothpaste,’ Rick mutters.

‘But Ben already gave it to me,’ the dark-skinned woman frowns, glancing from the blond to their leader. ‘And I _did_ say thank you.’

‘I know. He’s just being an idiot.’

‘Is it call Benjamin an idiot-day?’ Benjamin asks with a frown. ‘If you’d just man up about the whole thing, I wouldn’t have to-‘

‘ _Ben_.’ Rick glares at him. ‘Don’t you have somewhere else to be?’

‘No,’ Daryl says as he closes his eyes again. ‘He don’t.’

‘I don’t,’ Benjamin smiles before turning to Carol. ‘It’s too dark for a cut now, may I postpone my appointment to sometime tomorrow morning? I’ve got a pair of scissors in my pack, by the way. Maybe tomorrow after I’ve washed my hair?’

‘Sure,’ the woman says easily. ‘Just come and find me, my schedule is wide open.’

‘Good. Maybe you can fit in Carl too? Don’t look at me like that,’ he tells the teenager. ‘Are you even looking at me? I can’t tell because your hair is covering your entire face. You kinda look like one of those old boybands we used to have. That reminds me, did any of you like…’

Daryl shuts him out. The rambling goes on around him, people joining the conversation as it spins from boybands to favorite singers to favorite gigs they ever went to, to favorite past-times and hobbies. In the end, he falls asleep to Michonne’s laughter and Tara’s insistence that Glenn totally looks more like a bass player than a drummer, no matter how much Maggie protests.


	6. Transformations

 

* * *

 

 

‘We need a plan.’

Daryl grunts as he washes his face.

‘We don’t have a lot of fuel left and we still don’t have anywhere to go. It’s starting to drive everyone up the walls.’ Benjamin toes off his boots and unbuckles his belt, letting the jeans pool around his feet. Then he peels off his socks, throws his jacket and shirt onto the pile. After a moment of hesitation, a glance over his shoulder to where in the distance and beyond the tree line the house is, he takes off his underwear too. ‘Did Rick talk to you about it? Does he have a clue about where he wants to go?’

‘Nah,’ Daryl sits down on the ground and takes his boots and socks off before dunking his feet in the water. ‘Some place safe, is what he keeps sayin’.’ The hunter casts a look up and down the stream. ‘Ain’t nowhere safe. Or safe enough for the time bein’.’

‘No,’ Benjamin agrees as he pads over the riverbank and lowers himself into the water. ‘Fuck, that’s cold.’

Daryl glances over at him for a second. ‘You’re getting your bandages wet.’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ his friend tells him as he holds on to the bank and kicks his legs lazily. ‘Maggie said I didn’t have to bandage it up anymore, anyway.’

The hunter grunts and leans back on his elbows.

‘So, we need a plan about where we’re going. We need food. We need fuel because we’re running low. And you’re going to have to give me a new name.’

‘The hell?’

‘I need a new name,’ Benjamin says matter-of-factly. ‘The one I have? It was all wrong to begin with. It’s supposed to refer to the bible, the youngest child and everything. They couldn’t even get that right, huh? My sister was younger than me. And anyway, they gave it to a screaming bundle 26 years ago. It’s hardly up to date. I’m not that person anymore.’

‘Still make an awful lot of noise.’

They share a grin that’s more like a grimace because they both know that hasn’t been true for a while now.

 ‘What do ya want me to call ya then?’ Daryl asks.

Benjamin shrugs as he stands in the river, dunking his head back to wash it briefly. ‘I don’t care,’ he mutters as water drips over his face from the wet strands. ‘A rose by any other name and all that bullshit. I could be a John. No, not a John. My favorite book is written by a John, it would be wasted on me. Any other name then. Mark. Tim. Dan. Just pick one.’

Daryl watches as the blond rinses his hair before turning back to his own limbs, washing his arms. ‘Why’s Benjamin suddenly taboo?’

‘He called me that,’ the younger man mutters. ‘Said it all the damn time while he… I don’t want to hear it anymore. Least of all out of your mouth. It’s ruined.’ He wades back to the bank and lifts himself out of the water. The muscles of his arms bulge.

‘But you’re not.’

‘Feels like it, sometimes,’ Benjamin admits as he walks back to his clothes and wipes himself off with his shirt. He quickly puts his underwear back on. ‘It’s a shame, really. It used to fit me fine. Suited me. Long-winded and with a thousand ways to shorten it.’

Daryl watches how he struggles to put his jeans back on, the denim sticking to the half-dried skin. ‘What did your parents call you?’

Benjamin buckles his belt and plops down in the grass to put his socks and shoes on. ‘They used my full name. Everyone else shortened it, they thought someone had to address me properly or I’d forget my own name or something like that.’

‘What’s your second name?’

‘Don’t have one,’ Benjamin sighs as he finishes lacing his boots. His lower arms rest on his knees. The dog tags blink in the sunlight. He squints at Daryl through his wet hair. ‘What did your parents call you?’

Daryl shrugs. ‘Daryl’s plenty short. Friends called me Dare sometimes. Darlina.’

‘ _Darlina_?’

‘Merle thought he was bein’ funny.’ He gives his friend a small smirk. ‘Piece of shit.’

‘That’s a rubbish nick-name,’ Benjamin nods. ‘You’re right; Daryl is plenty short. Anyway, you can pick my new name, if you want. I don’t care.’

Daryl thinks about that while he puts his own socks and shoes back on. He loves the other man’s name and he doesn’t want to lose it because of some dead bastard who’d ruined it. He’s glad Xander is dead. He hates how that man’s ghost still haunts his friend. ‘What about Ben?’ He ventures. He doesn’t like it. It’s too abrupt and short, so far from what Benjamin is and always will be, but he does understand the need for a new name. Maggie, Rick and Glenn call him Ben sometimes. It will stick easily.

‘Whatever man,’ Benjamin says. ‘Do you like it?’

‘No.’

Benjamin frowns, ‘then why pick it?’

‘I dunno.’ Daryl takes a deep breath. He can feel the warm summer air rushing through his lungs, dying inside of him. He releases it like he would with his smoke, a long, drawn-out breath that empties his lungs. He rises, throws his crossbow onto his back and starts walking back to the house. After a couple of steps, he turns, raising an eyebrow expectantly. ‘ _Benji_ ,’ he calls out. ‘Come on. Get goin’.’

Benji looks up, blond hair dripping wet, droplets sliding down his temple, running over his pale lips. He licks them off of them. The lips curl into a smile as he gets to his feet. He ties his shirt to his belt, grabs his backpack and hoists it onto his shoulders. ‘I’m coming,’ he calls back. ‘Wait up!’

Daryl waits.

The blond strides through the long grass towards him. The woods whispers in their ears. The wind, the animals, nothing pays them any mind. There are faint growls of walkers nearby, always chasing their sounds, smelling their beatings hearts, but they’re too far away to be any threat right now.

Daryl can feel his heart hammer in his chest, far too big while sometimes being too small and tearing apart over his own feelings, trying to fit in another shape while he knows… he _knows_.

Benji meets him at the beginning of the tree line. Body damp and hair soaked, glowing under the summer sun, skin losing its pale color. Those pale lips finding the shape of the smile once more, so much easier than before, the green of his eye matches the brightness of the world around them.

There’s youth in the way he grins, those white teeth sparkling like the water behind them, in the smooth skin, in the way he still looks up at the sky when birds take flight from their hiding places and soar over them. But there’s old-age too, in how he carries himself, so sure of his own movements, in how he doesn’t need to say anything, just dips his chin in a small nod as Daryl falls in step beside him.

‘Benji,’ the blond tastes the word. ‘You’re the only one who ever called me that, I think. Are you really willing to share it?’

He isn’t, of course, but he can’t deny the blond that smile on his face. The way his shoulders are not so slumped anymore, that spine stronger somehow, and eyes much, much brighter.

‘Any other name, right?’ he lies.

Benji nods. ‘Right. I like it. Smooth, fast. Good. Better than Tim. I don’t feel like a Tim. I knew a Tim once, he was in my math class. Or chemistry. Doesn’t matter, was rubbish at both of those classes and he always laughed at me. My teacher would call on me all the damn time, probably trying to teach me or something but it just felt like he was out to humiliate me. Did you ever had that? Teachers trying to teach you something while they’re only making you feel like a total idiot, unworthy of their time. Didn’t matter how nice they were about it. Hey, were you good at math?’

‘No.’

‘Ever know a Tim?’ Benjamin asks, not disturbed by the clipped answer.

‘Yeah.’ Daryl ducks under a low branch and leads the blond back to the house. ‘Knew a Tim once.’

‘What was he like?’

‘Was a fat guy with a bulldog in a trailer park.’

Benji blinks, ‘that doesn’t sound like a Tim either.’

Daryl snorts. ‘What does a Tim sound like?’

‘Like a mean kid in math class. Or chemistry.’ Benji grins at him. ‘I think you misremembered the fat guy’s name.’

The growls from the walkers in the woods are now much closer. Daryl stops to look. Three of them, dragging their rotting bodies forth by will for blood. Two men, one woman, about his age, he’d guess even though it’s hard to tell. The trees make it difficult to get a clear line of sight but he makes a move to grab his bow anyway.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Benji says.

For a second, Daryl thinks that Benji is going to keep walking. The walkers are not too close to be a real threat now. The two of them could easily slip away from them.

But Benji unsheathes his knife and steers right, whistling to attract the walkers attention.

It works. The three jerk towards him, their growling grows louder, more vicious now that their food source is actually getting closer.

Daryl watches. There really isn’t time for him to be concerned. Maybe, if he’s honest, there’s a quick second of sheer terror. Right between the moment Benji rounds the last tree, when the whistling stops and all Daryl can hear is a living body connecting with a dead one, that second when Benji is out of his sight, behind a tree and he thinks; if he wanted out, this would do the tric-….

But then the walker falls to the floor, truly dead with blood oozing out of a stab-wound in its brain and Benji kicks the second to the ground before plunging his knife into the skull of the woman. Her falling body drags the knife out of his hand, but Benji just crashes his boot against the skull of the remaining walker. There’s a sickening crunch of bones shattering.

A couple of seconds and then Benji is by his side again, his breathing a little heavier than before and knife now bloody, but unharmed and smiling. ‘Anyway,’ he says as he sheaths his knife again, ‘that can’t possibly have been a Tim.’

‘What?’

‘The fat guy at the trailer park,’ Benji reminds him. ‘Can’t have been a Tim.’

‘Right.’

‘Before we get back, I’m going to need a kiss.’ The blond wraps a hand around Daryl’s neck, drawing him in for a quick kiss. ‘And now we need a plan.’

‘For what?’

‘We’re starving in the South of America right now. We need a general what-the-fuck-are-we-going-to-do-plan.’

‘We’ve been taking things slow because…’ Daryl trails off, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

‘Because you were worried you’d need to dig me a grave, I know,’ Benji nods. ‘But I’ve decided, okay? I’m not _better_ , it’s not like getting over a cold or something, but I’m good, okay? We can start worrying about other things. Like starving.’

The corner of Daryl’s mouth quirks upwards. ‘I’ll talk to Rick.’

‘Good. Tell your brother we’re ready.’

 

 

Rick and Daryl sit side-by-side beneath a large tree. Their backs leaning against the bark, enjoying the shade. There’s a soft breeze which plays with their hair and clothing. Daryl tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear while Rick chews on a blade of grass. Their gazes rests on Benji, Carol and Carl.

Benji is kneeling in the grass, head bowed and hands fidgeting in his lap.

Carol is looming over him.

Carl walks circles around them both, smirking all the way.

‘How short?’ Carol demands.

Benji looks up through his hair, ‘well, not bald! Just, like, an inch? No, more, I don’t know. Library-short. Do you remember how I had it at the library? It wasn’t _short_ by the way! It looked good. Try not to take my ear, okay? Watch it!’ he yelps when Carol grabs his hair and clips some of it off with the scissors in her hand. ‘Hello? Calm down! Don’t _hack_ at it like that!’

Daryl snorts at his friend’s terrified protestations as Carol ignores him.

Rick looks at him with a smirk on his face. ‘One night watch he’s going to get nicked.’

‘Ain’t takin’ your night watch,’ the hunter answers, ‘keep your wager. He’s gonna get it if he don’t shut up soon.’

Rick laughs. ‘You’re right. I’m just glad to hear him talking again. He’s doing good. Better.’

‘He is,’ Daryl nods. Pride blooms deep inside his chest. He watches how Carol cuts away the blond strands, the last traces of that dye job done with bleach. The hair color of his friend changes before his eyes. From blond to gray with just a few snips of the scissor. In the soft sunlight, it looks more like silver. He wonders, if they ever come across a new bottle of dye again, if the other man would use it. He hopes not. The silver suits him.

‘You two all right?’ Rick asks while looking away towards the house. They’ve never been the type of people to have heart-to-heart talks. He scratches at his beard and Daryl wonders whether these situations make him as uncomfortable as they make Daryl.

‘Fine,’ the hunter grunts out, shaking some of his hair into his eyes just so he can hide behind it. One hand comes up so he can bite on his thumb. Then he takes it away again. ‘Told me to let you know that he’s good. We can stop worryin’ about him. Move on.’

‘Move on?’

Daryl stretches one long leg out before him. The edge of his boot catches the sunlight. ‘Need to come up with a plan about where we’re goin’.’

‘I know,’ Rick rubs at his eye with the palm of his hand and sighs. ‘I’ve been thinking but… We can’t go back south, it will take us too close to Genesis.’

‘Three other ways left,’ Daryl points out.

‘Say we go west, east, doesn’t matter which way,’ Rick turns his head so he can look at his friend again. ‘Is that going to motivate anyone? We need… We need something like Washington, like the CDC, hell, Fort Benning. A place to go, a _specific_ place, not a general direction.’

Daryl nods.

‘But we’ve gone over the maps. Me, Maggie, Glenn, Abe, we looked, all right? There ain’t no place like that. There’s no prison. There’s no CDC. There’s no army base anywhere in this region.’

Daryl watches how Benji gets up, complaining about his knees and running a hand through his shorter hair. He shakes out the loose strands, brushing them of his naked shoulders before pointing to the spot where he’d sat, directing Carl over.

The boy falls to his knees before Carol, telling her that he wants it to look _cool_ , of all things.

The woman lifts a skeptical eyebrow but winks at him before getting to it.

Benji sits down beside his pack and gets out his shaving cream and razor, that small mirror he keeps tucked away behind one of the zippers. He’s silent while he shaves.

Carl watches him, fascinated and learning the moves for when he’ll finally need it.

Rick lets out a little laugh and gestures at his son. ‘Lori used to cut his hair when he was little. She….’ He bites back a grin, ‘she didn’t really have an eye for it, you know? She’d just take the scissor out of the kitchen drawer and cut his hair, watching the news with one eye while doing it. I’d come home and he’d look like he’d been attacked by the lawnmower.’

Daryl snorts.

_‘We’ll just put a bit of product in,_ ’ Rick says, mimicking Lori’s voice and pretending to ruffle his son’s hair. ‘ _It’ll be fine_!’ He shakes his head, ‘after a couple of times, I’d take him with me when I got my own hair cut. Pretended it was a surprise, you know? One chore less she had to do and all that but really… I tried to save him some embarrassment.’

‘Worked,’ Daryl points out. ‘When I met him? Cleanest-cut kid I’d ever seen. Had white-collar written all over him.’

Rick laughs and nods. ‘Yeah. I was just lucky Lori never even attempted to do mine. Curls were too difficult, she thought.’

The hunter nibbles on his thumb again. ‘My ma used to cut mine too, to save money. After she’d gone, Merle would just shave me whenever I was too high or drunk to recognize that weren’t the brightest of ideas.’

The former cop shakes his head, his shoulders shaking from the silent laughter. ‘That happened often?’

‘Whenever it got too long. Ain’t no brother of him were going to look like no girl,’ Daryl grins.

‘So what’s this,’ Rick bats at the hunter’s head, fingers just brushing over the long hair. ‘Late teenage-rebellion?’

‘Nah, some ass hole locked him up on a roof and he couldn’t shave it with one hand,’ Daryl aims a kick at Rick’s boots.

‘Looked like a sharp enough blade on that stump to me.’

Daryl laughs, ‘yeah. That son of bitch, you ever had a good look at that thing? Weighed a fuckin’ ton.’

‘Probably thought it made him look like a bad-ass.’

‘Did.’

Rick nods and laughs, ‘yeah, all right, it did.’

They share another grin and watch as Carl gets his new haircut. Not quite as drastic as Benji’s, but it’s shorter and won’t fall into his eyes anymore. Daryl hasn’t got a clue whether it actually looks cool but Benji keep muttering reassuring things while shaving and the teenager looks pleased.

Daryl picks at his fingernails. Merle’s voice is booming in his mind when he glances at Rick. _You know what’s funny to me? You and sheriff Rick are like_ this _now_.

It’s true, of course. They’re brother in all but blood.

He swallows with some difficulty and clears his throat. ‘We was goin’ to rob them blind.’

Rick slowly looks at him, probably unsure about who he’s talking.

‘Back at the quarry, me and Merle? Hmm.’ Daryl glances at the woods beyond. He supposes that this is what taking confession feels like. It doesn’t surprise him that his church is the tree line, the border where civilization and the wild clashes. ‘We were goin’ to take the supplies, cut ‘n run. Were just buyin’ our time.’

‘It didn’t happen.’

A small smile creeps onto Daryl’s face as his own words are echoed back to him. ‘’cause Merle wasn’t there to help me. Never made it back from Atlanta.’

Rick just looks at him.

‘Didn’t like the plan much,’ Daryl confesses. ‘I thought it’d be best to stick with a group. It was Merle’s idea to just take all of the supplies and leave them hangin’. But I would have done it.’ He meets Rick’s eye. ‘If Merle had come back from Atlanta? I would have done it, ain’t no doubt about that.’

The old cowboy boots of the sheriff scrape over the grass as he shifts to get more comfortable. ‘Why are you telling me this now?’

‘Dunno,’ Daryl shrugs. ‘Merle’d bet me a penny and a fiddle of gold I’d never tell ya. Wanna be able to collect that when I see him again.’

Rick smirks at him. ‘Won’t be collecting it for a while, man.’

‘Reckon not.’

‘Carl looks like he’s about done. Come on,’ Rick gets to his feet and holds his hand out to hoist his brother up. ‘Let’s go check it out.’

The haircut is actually quite neat. Carl is hanging over Benji’s shoulder in order to share the mirror, bony knees pressing into the man’s back. The brown hair barely reaches his eyebrows and now frames his face instead of swallowing it whole.

Benji wipes the small traces of shaving cream off his face with his shirt and then passes the mirror to Carl.

The teenager examines his new style before glancing at Benji. ‘Looks good, right?’

‘Hmm? Yeah, I told you; Carol did a great job,’ the young man mutters while he scratches at the bandage on his collarbone, peeling it off. He winces when it snags one some of the more sensitive areas. Slowly, he uncovers the scar.

Carl stares.

The smile fades from Benji’s face but he doesn’t stop. It takes him a couple of moments but eventually he tosses the bandage aside. He runs a hand over the scar, from his eye over his cheek and down his neck, brushing over the collar bone. ‘Right,’ he mutters as he looks around their little campsite for his stuff. ‘Thanks again, Carol.’

‘You’re welcome, sunshine.’

‘Who did it?’ Carl asks. His gaze is glued to the scar. ‘Who cut you?’

‘Xander,’ Benji mutters as he grabs his backpack.

‘I’m glad he’s dead.’

Benji nods distractedly. ‘Yeah. Fine. Me too.’ He checks his knife even though there’s no reason to do so. ‘Can you stop staring now? It’s my fucking face. Deal with it.’

Carl flinches a bit at the sharp words. ‘Sorry, I just – I’ve never seen it before.’

‘My face? Or the fact that someone took a knife and-‘

‘ _Benjamin_.’ Rick’s sharp voice makes the younger man shiver. ‘That’s enough. He didn’t mean anything by it.’

Benji holds on to the straps of his backpack tightly. The knuckles are white from the pressure he puts on them. The green gaze flickers to Daryl, who’s walking over to Carol. ‘Sorry, Rick. Carl. I’m a bit… I know it’s ugly, okay? And I’m sorry, but there’s no point wasting good bandages on a closed wound.’

Rick frowns and puts a hand on his son’s shoulder. ‘We’re not expecting you to cover it up but don’t expect us not to notice. Give it some time. Besides, we got used to Daryl’s ugly mug and he ain’t apologizing.’

‘Call him ugly again and you’ll fucking regret it,’ Benji tells him as one of his hands slowly lets go of the backpack. He stands a little straighter, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth again.

Daryl dismisses them with a glance as he heads over to Carol, who welcomes him with a small laugh. ‘Look at him,’ she says, ‘defending your good name. And face.’

Daryl rolls his eyes. ‘He’s just lookin’ for a fight. Let him. Rick will put him on his ass again soon enough.’

‘I’m not so sure,’ Carol muses as she watches how Rick and Benji now trade friendly snipes. ‘Look at him. I mean, he’s no Abraham, but he can take care of himself.’

‘Hmm-hmm,’ Daryl throws his pack on the ground. ‘Got time for one more?’

‘Cut?’ Carol asks, surprised.

‘Yeah.’ Daryl sinks to his knees and looks up at her expectantly.

‘Well, this is a position I’ve dreamed about,’ the woman grins at him as she steps into his personal space to run a hand through his hair. ‘You did say you’d go down first, remember? Man of his word, you are.’

‘Stop,’ he blushes.

‘He’s mine!’ Benjamin shouts from where he’s now wrestling with Rick, twisting to get out of a headlock and pushing the sheriff away easily. ‘Don’t get any funny ideas. I love you, lady, but – auch, Rick, you fucking asshole, come here! I was defending my man’s honor and you’re taking a jab at me?’

Carol snorts and raises the scissors, ‘how short? Quarry?’

It sounds far too hopeful.

He shakes his head. ‘Nah. Maybe,’ he squints up at her, ‘like the prison? Fuck it,’ he grouses when he realizes that it might have sounded too much like asking whether that was a good look on him. ‘Don’t care, woman. Just cut it!’

Carol laughs, ‘sure, Pookie. Close your eyes before I poke them out by accident.’

He closes them. It feels strange to have those fingers running through his hair in such a tender way. He relaxes a bit. The last time he got a cut was by himself, efficient and without much care, and before that it probably had been Merle, shaving him bald when he was passed out and waking to that hackling laughter.

Now, he listens to the snip of the scissors and Benji’s banter combined with Rick’s snarky remarks. There’s laughter coming from Carl, who falls into the grass beside the hunter to watch the play-fight between his friend and his father.

The sun is shining. There hasn’t been an incident in many days now.

He reckons it’s a good day. One of the better ones, at least.


	7. Okay, shoot.

 

* * *

 

 

Benji is reading a book.

Of course, this is not a note-worthy event as his nose is always buried between pages whenever he needs a moment for himself. It usually happens late at night when the people around them are trying to get some sleep but the young man feels too restless to close his eyes. He says it tires him and his mind, forcing him into sleep sooner than staring up at the ceiling would do. Sometimes it happens early in the morning as well. Benji waking up is like flipping the light switch, his mind turning on in a blink of an eye, eyes snapping back into focus instantly and he’s up and out of bed, laughing and talking before Daryl can even stretch properly. But not everyone can deal with so much enthusiasm and excitement early in the morning. So when Abraham’s temperature is flaring, Sasha looks like she hasn’t slept well, or Carl glares at him from under his bangs, Benji makes breakfast as quietly as he can and then gets out his book, forcing himself to be still and calm to let others adjust to the feeling of being awake.

Right now, however, it’s late in the afternoon. They’re squatting in an another abandoned house. The bedrooms have been divided up among them and Benji lucked out on the draw and got the biggest guestroom. It has a double bed and a small dresser, two nightstands and a broken mirror. The door locks.

The younger man is sitting up against the headboard when Daryl walks in. His hair is a mess of silver, darker at the roots but light where it reaches into his eyes. He’s frowning at the pages, almost like he disagrees with where the story is taking him, and licks his finger before flipping them. One leg drawn up, sock-clad foot digging into the matrass and the other leg stretched out.

Daryl smiles at the sight of him.

Green eyes glance up for a second, ‘hey, gorgeous.’

‘Hey,’ the hunter mutters as he closes the door and locks it before crossing over to the bed and throwing himself on it. His muscles sink into the soft matrass. He groans at the sensation.

Benji’s finger slides down the page at a steady pace until he reaches the bottom and closes the book. Then he turns to his friend, pecks him on the lips and sinks down a little. ‘Tired?’

‘Hmm-hmm.’ Daryl shifts so he can cross his ankles over each other and folds one arm beneath his head. ‘It’s been a long-ass day.’

‘Yeah.’ Benji throws the book onto his nightstand. ‘How did the run go?’

‘All right. Found a bit of food, not much, didn’t run into no trouble.’ He nods at the nightstand. ‘Ya don’t have to stop just ‘cause I’m here.’

‘I know,’ Benji says easily. He stretches. ‘It’s not that good of a read. Sasha brought it back for me so it’d be rude not to read it now, but it’s just… It’s not for me.’

‘Just tell her that, she won’t give a fuck,’ Daryl murmurs as his friend rolls to his side and moves closer. He reaches out, hooks his arm around those strong shoulder and runs a hand down Benji’s back.

‘It’s her favorite book,’ the man counters. ‘People get funny if you don’t like their favorite books. And she’s going to want to know my opinion on stuff happening in the story so I can’t just fake having read it. I’m not a great liar.’

‘No,’ Daryl agrees, ‘you’re not.’ He leans in to capture Benji’s lips. The kiss is soft and easy, so relaxed that it makes Daryl’s heart sing. He slowly leans back into his pillow, guiding Benji closer.

Benji shifts again, closer still, until his side is pressed against Daryl’s. He moves his leg, sliding it between the hunter’s, leaning over him to kiss him.

Daryl hums into his mouth as they trade lazy kisses. Fingers card through his hair while he runs a hand along a spine. He slides it beneath the fabric of Benji’s shirt, finding warm, smooth skin.

In a hazy moment when they tilt their heads, their lips part only to find each other again at a different angle, Daryl thinks about how he’s never made out with anyone like this. There have been a lot of make out session in his past, the hormone-driven ones when he was a teenager and the drunken ones in that run-down bar, even wild ones where those two types clashed together.

But those were always frantic. Teeth clicking together, hands groping and nails scraping, the world a haze around him because his mind was derailed by drugs, alcohol or hormones. It was always fast, dirty and rough. He’d liked that, likes it still, but these kisses have nothing to do with him wanting Benji to grind down on him, his blood isn’t boiling in his veins, his heart is not hammering in his chest.

Not yet.

Instead, he melts into the matrass and feels Benji melt into him. It’s relaxed, comfortable, almost too slow to be sexy.

Benji pecks him on his lips one final time before laying down on him. His head on Daryl’s shoulder, nose right in the crook of his neck.

‘I saw a fox today.’ Daryl blinks up at the ceiling and draws circles into Benji’s skin with his fingertips. This has been happening more and more lately. He’ll suddenly blurt out a tidbit of information about his day or his life at random moments. It vaguely reminds him of those television shows where families would eat dinner together and tell each other how their day has been. Horribly domestic and foreign to him, with perky people who had stable jobs and family members who actually seemed to give a damn about how the other’s day had been.

‘Did you now?’ Benji asks.

‘Yeah. I followed the river for a couple of miles, took a break on a little hill downstream and it just slipped out of the bushes right in front of me, drank its fill and snuck back.’

‘You didn’t shoot it?’

Daryl frowns a little. ‘Nah, too little meat, man. It wouldn’t have made a difference. Besides,’ he starts and then hesitates for a second before soldiering on. ‘It was a goddamn beautiful moment. Weren’t goin’ to ruin that by nailing it to the nearest tree.’

Benji smiles and presses a kiss into his skin. ‘I’ve never seen a wild fox.’

‘You’re too loud.’

‘Yeah,’ he doesn’t sound very sorry about it. ‘I’m getting better though, right?’

‘No,’ Daryl says even though it isn’t true. The comment serves its purpose; Benji raises himself to his elbow and looks up at the hunter, surprised and a bit scandalized. It brings his lips close enough to Daryl’s for a slow kiss.

‘That was sneaky of you,’ Benji accuses against Daryl’s lips, a whisper shared between them.

‘My middle name,’ Daryl answers.

‘I think you might be right,’ Benji strokes his cheek. ‘First, I thought you were a force of nature. Brutal. But you’re more like the beginning of winter, when you still think that summer will last forever and you’re standing by a bus stop, freezing your damn balls off because you didn’t bring a jacket. You’re that kind of sneaky.’

Daryl lets his head fall back onto the pillow and laughs. ‘The hell?’

‘That was one beautiful analogy, let me tell you,’ the silver-haired guy laughs as he reclaims his place on the hunter’s rumbling chest. ‘My parents paid some hard-earned cash on my college degree and it fucking shows. I’m a wizard with words.’

Daryl snorts. His hands wander over Beni’s lean back. When they reach the hem of his shirt, he dips them under it, feeling the warm, smooth skin under the palms of his hands. The shirt gets pushed up as he strokes the back of his friend, but neither of them mind. Benji’s breath is warm against his collar bone, his body a heavy but comforting weight.

It no longer feels strange to touch him like this, or even to recognize that he _wants_ to touch his friend like this. There’s no hesitation as he reaches out and no doubt whenever he thinks about those pale lips and clever tongue. There’s no shame, either.

When one of his hands reaches the waistband of the jeans again, it glides over the denim and over the smooth curve of the other man’s ass. He grips it, squeezing it gently.

Benji’s hand moves over Daryl’s chest, coming to rest around his nipple, stroking the bud through his flannel shirt. His hips grind against the archer’s leg for a second before he pushes back against the hand groping his ass as if he’s unsure of what which sensation he prefers at the moment.

‘Got some questions again,’ Daryl murmurs into the silver hair of his friend.

The younger man settles down again and smiles. ‘Yeah? Okay, shoot.’

Daryl can feel his cheeks and the tips of his ears burn and is glad that Benji isn’t looking at him. His heart hammers in his chest, fingers trembling slightly against the skin of his friend. He sucks on his teeth for a second.

‘How do ya decide who… ya know?’

Benji frowns, ‘decide what?’

Daryl represses a groan of mortification. ‘Who takes it and who….’

‘Oh, who tops and who bottoms?’

‘Guess…’ his voice trails off. He might not know the proper terms but he knows how it works. He’s heard enough crude jokes in shady bars about the act and even with limited knowledge of human biology it isn’t exactly hard to figure out how it would all go down. Still, he feels woefully unprepared.

‘Well, you talk about it,’ Benji answers like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He doesn’t seem bothered by it, isn’t blushing or squirming. He’s so relaxed that he melts into the hunter’s frame. His thumb still strokes circles over the flannel covering Daryl’s chest.

It’s not a topic Daryl is keen on discussing. It feels too intimate, even if he had his hand wrapped around the other man’s cock not two days ago. Of course, before, there hadn’t been anything to discuss. With girls, it’s easy, Daryl reckons. There wasn’t any need to discuss technicalities and his parents sure as hell never gave him any kind of talk. The only sex-ed he’d ever gotten was Merle slapping a condom into his hand and telling him to keep his dick wrapped tight if he didn’t want to be no-one’s daddy.

‘It’s not a strict rule, you know,’ Benji continuous. ‘Some people like to top, others rather bottom, but it’s not black and white. You can switch sometimes. Depends on the people, really.’

Daryl nods and clears his throat awkwardly. ‘And you…’

‘Prefer to bottom,’ Benji says easily and with a little shrug of indifference. ‘But as I’ve said, I’ve topped a couple of times when I wanted. It’s give and take.’

‘Hmm, a’right.’

The silver-haired man raises himself up so he can look his friend in the eye. He reaches up to run a hand through the dark strands, now much shorter than it had been a couple of days ago. He brushes it out of Daryl’s eyes. ‘Have you been thinking about it?’

‘No.’ The answer comes too quick to be honest.

Benji screws up his nose. ‘I don’t have to tell you that it’s okay to think about having sex with the person you love, right?’

Daryl avoids his gaze and focusses on the scar instead. It’s less red now but not any less striking. ‘’Course not,’ he mutters but it sounds defensive. He feels like an idiot. Like a blushing virgin and God knows he’s anything but, but all of this is so new that it feels unreal. He envies how relaxed Benji is, how comfortable in his own skin and identity. How he apparently knows exactly what he wants and likes.

‘Good. So do you think you’d prefer to top, or…’

‘The hell do I know,’ Daryl snaps and he shoves Benji’s shoulder, making a move to get out of the bed, out of the room and most of all, far away from this conversation. He regrets ever starting it.

‘No, stop,’ Benji puts his hands on Daryl’s shoulders and pins him down on the bed.

‘Let me go!’ Daryl snarls.

‘No, calm down! Jesus Christ.’

Daryl grunts as he tries to get up, but Benji’s weight on his legs and shoulders is preventing him to get enough leverage. The muscles in the younger man’s arms bulge as he grits his teeth.

‘Stop,’ he says, almost pleading. ‘ _Stop_ running from me every time you feel cornered or out of your depth. We’re good. It’s just us in here.’

‘Ain’t talkin’ about that stuff!’

‘If you can’t talk about it, you have no business doing it,’ Benji counters. ‘And _you_ started the conversation in the first place, so finish it!’

Daryl rolls his hips, twists his leg just so that Benji’s knee slips off of him and flips their positions through sheer strength and will. He smashes Benji into the mattress, knocking the wind out of the younger man. ‘Fine! _Gonna fuck ya till ya beg for it_!’ Daryl breathes hard, staring into those green eyes as he snaps the words at him. ‘Ain’t nobody’s bitch. I won’t be the one taking it up the goddamn ass, a’right?’

‘Think just because I will, I’m going to be your bitch?’ Benji challenges with a grin on his face. By now he’s gotten so used to Daryl lashing out that it hardly makes him flinch. He knows exactly what’s causing the other man’s skin to crawl and his fists to itch. ‘Never heard about topping from the bottom, have you? You’re the one who’s going to be begging me to let you fuck me. And if I say _harder_ , you better fuck me harder. And if I say _no_ , you better get ready to use your own hand. I’m not going to be your damn bitch, Daryl Dixon.’

The green of his eyes is almost black. Daryl can feel his muscles shift beneath his own, knows that they will be evenly matched in any fight. That Benji could throw him off of him anytime he wanted to. But he doesn’t. He looks up at Daryl with confidence, with a hint of challenge in that smirk.

Daryl feels fire coursing through his veins. He leans down hungrily, wanting to taste those lips, claim those words and declare them gospel because _this_ is what he wants. Someone evenly matched. Someone strong enough to put him in his place, to call his bullshit and never fear the backlash.

Benji’s hand shoots up, grabbing hold of Daryl’s chin and preventing him from claiming those lips. Just to prove a point. Their breath ghosts over their lips.

Daryl whines low in his throat.

And Benji lets go of him. Allows the kiss now. His hand glides into the brown hair of his friend, guiding him to the right angle as their lips meet. Surprisingly soft at first, just a peck before their gazes meet again.

Daryl’s face breaks out in a boyish grin, ‘gonna have to teach me how to….’

‘Say it.’

Daryl swallows thickly. ‘You’re goin’ to have to teach me how to fuck ya. Never did a guy before.’

‘I’m guessing it will be my pleasure,’ Benji grins. ‘And it’s not really all that different, but I will tell you all the tips and tricks. First thing you have to know is; I love kissing you,’ He grins as he loops his arm around Daryl’s neck, dragging him close for another kiss. ‘And I love you. Very much.’

‘Love you too,’ Daryl mutters as he steals another peck of lips, licking at the upper lip, teasing him a little. He shifts most of his weight to his right hand, which digs deeper into the matrass. His left hand wanders down Benji’s toned chest, over his softer belly, until it ghosts over rough denim.

The silver-haired man grins into the kiss. ‘Yeah,’ he breathes into the hunter’s mouth. His lips, normally so pale, are red and shining wet. A tongue snakes over them before dipping in and Daryl moans as he’s allowed to let his wrap around Benji’s, so hot and slick.

His fingers tighten, wander, until he rubs them over the outline of Benji’s dick.

The younger man is half-hard already. He strokes a hand down the hunter’s neck, over his broad shoulders and down his right arm.

Daryl leans back slightly, mourning the loss of those lips but he needs to take a deep breath to fill his lungs again. He gazes down at Benji, who gazes up, cheeks now flushed, eyes black due to lust.

Daryl opens his mouth to say something _. Fuck, you’re gorgeous_ , maybe, or, _if you’ll let me suck you off now, I promise I won’t freak out_. It doesn’t matter what. He never gets the chance.

There’s a gunshot. Right outside of the house.

It only takes a second to register. The sound is so familiar by now that they don’t have that split second of doubt, of hesitation anymore. They just act.

One second, one heartbeat, and then they’re shoving each other out of the way to get to their jackets and backpacks. Shoulders check as they dash for the door, Daryl fumbling with the lock until Benji pushes him out of the way to unlock it, and then they’re both rushing down the stairs, boots hitting the floorboards in sync until Benji jumps down the last couple of steps, landing hard on the first floor and dashing towards the front door.

Daryl flings himself around the corner, jumps over the coffee table to get to the backdoor.

They’re not sure where the sound came from.

‘What’s goin’ on?’ Daryl shouts just as Benji screams ‘what’s happening?’

‘Walkers!’ Tara answers. Her voice is shrill due to panic. It’s nearly drowned out by the gunshots.

Daryl stares at the tree line. There are dozens of walkers. It’s very hard to breathe suddenly. He looks over to his friends. Abraham and Sasha are laying down fire, Tara helping out with a couple of shots from her handgun. Walkers go down easily, headshot after headshot, but there are just too many for that to matter.

They’re everywhere. Growling, groaning, dragging themselves forward.

A sickening truth sinks in as Daryl throws his bow onto his back. They’re going to run out of bullet before they kill them all.

‘Get to the cars!’ He shouts. ‘Abe! Tara! Come on, leave it! Run!’

They listen to him, abandoning their posts and running after him as he rounds the house. He almost collides with Carol, who looks scared. ‘Get back,’ she says, pushing at his chest, ’that way! _That_ way!’

He stumbles back only to see another herd heading over from the other side of the field.

Maggie is right behind her, with Glenn in tow.

‘Go!’ The Asian shouts, gesturing towards the other side. ‘Hurry!’

Daryl grabs Carol’s hand and yanks her towards the back of the house. ‘Come on,’ he growls.

‘We can’t get to the cars,’ Glenn screams over the sound of the approaching walkers. ‘That side is already taken!’

‘Where’s Rick?’ Daryl yells back as he draws his knife and drives it into a walker’s skull with a sickening blow.

‘He went to check the snares with Carl!’

The hunter curses as he ducks around another walker, trusting Carol to take care of it so he can get the one behind it. It works. She kicks the walking corpse in the chest to floor it and then plunges her knife deep into the skull. It comes out dripping with blood.

When they make it to the other side, they run into Rosita, Eugene, and Michonne, who is carrying the crying Judith. The dark-skinned woman slips the toddler into Maggie’s waiting embrace so she can unleash her katana on the nearest walkers. They all fall down, heads cut cleanly in half.

‘Benji made a run for the cars,’ she says, breathing slightly heavier. ‘Where’s Carl? Rick?’

‘We don’t know,’ Glenn wheezes as he presses a hand to his ribs, looking over his shoulder. ‘The cars? They were overrun!’

Sasha kneels and takes aim, defending them but also drawing more walkers to them with every single gunshot.

‘What the fuck happened, anyway,’ Daryl growls, now swinging his bow back up and taking out a couple of walkers who were getting to close to Abraham. ‘How the hell do you not see two damn herds comin’?’

‘However this disastrous situation came about is not relevant at this point in time,’ Eugene tells him matter-of-factly. ‘I believe neck-deep in shit creek was the term?’ he asks while looking at Abraham.

Suddenly there’s the roar of an engine and one of their large pick-ups comes around the corner. It skids to a halt near the group, smashing three walkers out of the way. Their blood sprays onto the windshield.

Benji jumps out of the car. ‘Hurry, get in, get in,’ He pushes Maggie towards the backseat.

‘There’s not enough room for all of us,’ Carol objects even though she helps Rosita get in while Abraham and Eugene slide into the front seats.

‘I know,’ Benji pants. ‘Daryl, your lighter! Hurry!’

‘What the fuck,’ Daryl breathes as he pats his pockets to find the damn thing.

‘Tell me you got your damn lighter on you,’ Benji groans. ‘Fucking breathing in cancer every ten seconds but now we need it… ah, thanks,’ he grabs it out of Daryl’s hand when he fishes it out his back pocket. ‘Go!’ He shouts at Abraham. ‘We’ll meet you at the spot! Go, _go_!’

The military man hesitates for a second. His fingers whiten on the steering wheel.

‘ _Go_ ,’ Daryl shouts, aiming a kick at the door of the car.

The wheels spin once before finding enough traction and then the car is gone.

The hunter looks at Carol, who looks stunned, and Benji who is wiping sweat off his forehead. ‘What’s the deal?’ he asks his friend. ‘Ya got a plan?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Benji nods. ‘Your bike is around the side. Come on, we can still get to it!’

They run towards the side of the house that’s closest to the road. By the time they manage to get to it, all their knives are dripping with blood. Sweat is running down their backs, soaking their clothes and hair. The last walker goes down thanks to Carol, but there are dozens more making their way towards them.

The stench of death is in the air. Daryl will never understand how he couldn’t have smelled it before he went up the stairs to see his friend. It’s everywhere.

‘There’s three of us,’ Carol says, a hint of panic in her eye.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Benji says as he ushers her to the side of the bike. ‘Come on, hurry, Daryl.’

The hunter glides onto his bike, flipping a switch and kicking the engine to life with a grunt.

‘Get on,’ Benji tells carol.

She doesn’t. ‘But-‘

‘We don’t have time,’ Benji hisses. ‘Get on!’

Carol swings her leg over and grabs hold of Daryl’s waist, ‘there’s room. He can take both of us, you-‘

Daryl knows he can’t.

And Benji does too.

They look at each other.

‘Carl’s still out there,’ the younger man says. ‘So is Rick. They’re in the woods, right in that herd. We need it to move faster to give them a chance. We need to lure them.’

Daryl looks at the lighter in his friend’s hand.

‘Go,’ Benji tells him. ‘Get her out of here. I’ll be fine. I’ll find Rick and Carl, or I’ll find you. Which ever happens first, okay? I’ll be fine.’

‘Ben, no,’ Carol objects, trying to get off the bike but Daryl revs the engine, lets the back tire slip over wet grass so she has to grab hold of him to stay put. He doesn’t have time to tell his friend to be careful, that he loves him, that he needs to promise to make it. Instead, he opens up the gas and lets the engine roar.

Carol screams and hits him, fists thumping on his back as they speed down the road, disappearing into the night.

He hardly even notices.

 

By the time they reach the designated spot, Carol is leaning against his back, crying silent tears which leak down the white wings.

It’s a gas station, long since abandoned. Every single time they make a place their own, they now pick a meeting place somewhere further down the road in case things go south on them. They’ve learned that from the fall of the prison. They had found each other again through sheer dumb luck and chance after that. They won’t rely on it happening again.

The car is already there. The area has been cleared. A few fresh corpses are piled in a corner.

Daryl parks next to the car. Carol slides off without a word and locks herself in the vehicle.

The hunter sighs and swings his leg over, getting to his feet. ‘Everyone okay here?’

‘Daryl, watch out-!’

Maggie’s warning is lost on him as Rosita storms over, drawing her knife and slamming him into the car. The blade up to his throat, digging into the soft skin.

‘The hell,’ Daryl yelps. ‘He’s all right! See the smoke? He set the damn place on fire to draw them walkers in, get them off Rick’s trail. Y’all never seen him shoot? He’s gonna be fine, woman!’

‘Did you give him back his gun?’

A fists grabs hold of Daryl’s heart and lungs and squeezes tight. He can barely breathe.

‘Answer me.’ The young woman growls.

His gaze lowers to his own holster. The military-issued gun that once had belonged to Charlotte snug against his hip. The clip burns in his back pocket.

His own gun is still in Benji’s holster. With only one bullet.

He looks up again at Rosita, eyes wide and frightened. He swallows thickly.

‘Did you give him another clip? _Did you give him his gun back_?’

‘No.’

 


	8. welcome home

 

* * *

 

 

He wants to think that they didn’t have time to switch guns but knows that isn’t true. He wants to think that they were too caught up in the moment to trade the guns back, or even to pass a new clip to his friend but he can’t even lie to himself anymore. He’d just forgotten about it.

The whole pretense of safety had lured him into becoming sloppy and careless.

Or maybe it had been the fact that they were going to have a conversation about the whole thing and he’d decided to get a hand-job first and then proceeded to forget about the whole ordeal.

This damn romance novel is going to get them both killed.

 

It’s midnight when Rick, Carl and Benji make it to the gas station. The cop still has his python in his hands, but there’s blood dripping from the muzzle which means he’s had to use it as a knife a couple of times. He breaks the tree line and runs towards the group, his son hot on his heels.

‘ _Judith_?’

‘I got her,’ Michonne says quickly, getting out of the car with the little girl. ‘She’s fine. She’s okay.’

Rick slams against her, engulfing the woman and his daughter in a fierce hug. ‘Thank you,’ he murmurs into their skin. ‘Thank you.’

‘ _Benjamin_!’ Rosita breaks away from the group to run towards the man. She flings herself into his embrace, clinging to his shoulders.

Benji catches her easily. Strong arms wrapped around her small frame as he hitches her higher so she can wrap her legs around his waist. He carries her towards the car, leaning against It and burying his face in her neck. ‘I’m okay,’ he tells her softly. ‘We’re fine. We got out.’

Daryl watches from his spot on the curb. Glenn and Maggie, who were sitting beside him, get up to greet their returned family members. There’s blood all over Benji. It’s in his hair, on his face and neck, his leather jacket is too dark to see the stains on but his light jeans are discolored by it.

The young woman slides off of him, landing on her own feet with easy grace. She hugs him once more before allowing Glenn and Abraham to slap him on the shoulder in greeting. He ducks his head a little, nodding that he’s all right and accepting a bottle of water from the Korean, taking greedy gulps but not emptying it.

‘Carl,’ he croaks, throwing the bottle over to the teenager, who catches it.

‘What happened?’ Glenn asks.

‘Set the house on fire,’ Benji sighs as he leans back against the car and closes his eyes. ‘Rick and Carl were still in the woods so we had to draw the walkers away from them. Lit up the curtains and couch, threw some burning books on the beds upstairs. Worked.’

‘How did you get out?’

‘Front door,’ Benji shrugs. ‘It’s easier for one person to cut through a herd than fourteen. Just ducked and ran for the trees.’

‘You went _through_ the herd?’ Rosita asks.

‘Yeah,’ one eye cracks one again. ‘The fuck did you want me to do? Go _under_ it? They were everywhere. Didn’t have time to dig a fucking tunnel.’

‘How did you find Rick?’ Glenn asks with a frown.

‘What is this, a cross examination?’ Benji snaps back. ‘I slayed half a dozen walkers, hauled ass into the woods, remembered where the traps were, fucking found Rick and Carl because Rick had to fire his gun and me and about fifty walkers heard, then we said a trillion prayers and made our way back here by God’s fucking grace, all right?’

‘Hey,’ Glenn puts his hand on Benji’s shoulder, ‘calm down. We’re just glad you’re all right.’

‘Yeah,’ the younger man pushes himself away from the car to walk over to Rick. ‘Where’s my little princess? She good?’

‘She’s great.’ Rick nods. ‘I can’t thank yo-‘

‘Will you stop?’ Benji moans. ‘ _We_ got _us_ out. Thank me again and I’ll blow my brains out.’ He groans when everyone freezes. ‘Guys, a joke, come on. You know I do terrible jokes,’ he laughs humorlessly, ‘and you know what? I wouldn’t even be able to do it because my darling boyfriend gave me a gun with only one bullet and I fucking wasted it on a biter that was trying to chew on my shoulder. Good thing I was wearing leather, got the imprint and his brains still on me. Yay.’ He rubs at his eyes, ‘you know that sound a gun makes when it runs out of bullets? _Click, click, click_. Ugh, it almost became the soundtrack of my death. Kept expecting Celine Dion to pop up _, my heart will go on,_ right _? Near, far, wherever you are, you didn’t give me my fucking gun back so now I’m fucking screwed_. Think that’s how the lyrics went.’

 ‘Ben,’ Glenn tries but the younger man pushes him out of the way.

‘Are you even going to check whether I’m okay?’ he calls out to Daryl. ‘Going to get up at all? Say something like; _hey, glad you didn’t get eaten. Sorry I still got your gun_. Anything like that, Daryl?’

Daryl glances at the rest of their family members, who are looking at him expectantly. ‘The fuck y’all lookin’ at?’

‘Apparently I’m not the only one waiting!’ His gaze shifts back to Benji. Abraham is now holding on to his upper arm to keep him away from the hunter. ‘You fucking asshole!’ Benji screams. ‘ _You almost got me killed!_ ’ He struggles against Abraham, trying to shove the large man away from him but failing.

Daryl gets to his feet and crosses his arms. He narrows his eyes. ‘Ain’t that what ya wanted?’

‘ _Fuck you!_ ’ Benji screams. ‘ _Fuck you, you son of bitch! Let go! Fucking let go of me_!’

Abraham lifts Benji cleanly off the ground and flings him towards the car in an attempt to put more distance between him and the hunter. It doesn’t work, exactly. Benji slams against the metal, his hands coming up just in time to catch himself but then he pushes himself away from it again, ducking past the burly man, past Glenn who tries to grab his arm, and runs at Daryl.

It happens too fast for him to do anything.

A fist collides with his cheek. There’s so much force behind the punch that it drives him to the ground.

Daryl falls and Benji follows him down, shoves his shoulder so the hunter is straight on his back before kneeling on his chest, keeping him down.

‘You fucking son of a bitch,’ Benji snarls as he lashes out again, his knuckles meeting Daryl’s jaw this time.

The hunter grunts, but if years with Merle and his friends have taught him one thing it’s how to roll with the punches. Pain flares in his face. Before he can strike back, however, Benji is ripped away from him by Rick.

‘Back off,’ the former cop says. ‘Calm down, son.’

‘I’m not your son,’ Benji snarls, ‘I _saved_ your son. Again and again and again. I saved you, _again_! And all I get is a death sentence by the one person I love in this hell hole, okay? So save me your damn speech and let me go!’

‘What? Daryl Dixon made a mistake and you expected him to come crawling over with an apology? That sounds like your man to you?’ Rick asks.

‘No, I expected him to give a damn! _Ain’t that what I wanted?_ Fuck you, man!’

Daryl spits blood onto the ground before he gets to his feet again.

‘What, you got nothing to say?’ Benji challenges, fire still in his eyes even though Rick shoves him back again.

‘Nah, I don’t,’ Daryl mutters before turning on his heels and slipping away into the darkness of the forest.

 

Of course, Benji is waiting for him when he gets back at dawn. The world is bleeding. Red light is spilling over the horizon like a blood stain. The door leading to the bathrooms of the small gas station has been broken open by force. Most of their family members are inside, leaning against the cubicles as they sleep.

Michonne is on top of the building. She walks slow rounds to keep an eye out for any kind of trouble. She freezes when Daryl break the tree line but recognizes him soon enough. He can barely make her out, but her eyes flash dangerously as she turns her back on him.

Benji is sitting on the hood of the pick-up. He’s leaning back against the glass. Due to the strange light of dawn, his hair almost seems soaked with blood. He’s picking at his fingernails with his knife and only glances up when Daryl approaches.

The hunter carefully circles towards the car. His footsteps are silent.

‘If you think I’m going to take another swing at you, I’m not.’ Benji’s voice is low but loud enough for Daryl to hear. ‘I need my gun back. Now.’ The younger man takes Daryl’s gun out of his holster and puts it on the metal beside him with a soft clang. ‘Right now.’

Daryl switches the guns.

‘Thank you.’ It sounds forced and painful. Benji won’t look at him.

Daryl narrows his eyes and sucks on his teeth as he leans one hip against the truck.

Benji sighs and wipes his hands over his face. ‘Daryl,’ he says softly, ‘I need you to start talking to me now. I know you think words are evil, but I really, really need you to say something to me right now, okay? Because if you don’t, I’m going to go ballistic. Again. Possibly on you.’

Daryl folds his arms. He looks away.

‘ _Please_.’

‘The fuck do you want me to say?’ the hunter demands to know. ‘I forgot about the damn gun.’

‘This isn’t about the gun.’

‘Ya sucker punch me ‘cause I still had your damn gun ‘nd bullets and now it ain’t about the gun no more?’

‘Daryl,’ Benji grits out, ‘I’m trying real hard to be patient here. I almost died today.’

‘That weren’t on me, I told ya –‘

‘I almost _died_ and you didn’t even get up to-‘ Benji bites on his lips and shakes his head. ‘Look, I understand the world we live in, okay? You get to ditch my ass any time there’s a herd coming our way, I don’t care, but you damn well better welcome me back when I make it back.’

Daryl bites on his thumb. ‘Ya want me to put down a red carpet?’

The silver-haired man closes his eyes. ‘I want you to… Jesus. I can’t even believe I have to _explain_ this to you.’

‘Yeah, well maybe I’m just another dumb redneck then,’ Daryl scoffs as he pushes himself away from the car to walk back to the gas station.

‘No,’ Benji slides off the hood of the car and grabs his arm, ‘you’re _not_ walking away from me. I don’t even know where to fucking start. I jumped _all_ the hoops with this, okay? Hell, we made a deal back out on the road and I kept it. I’m not kissing you in front of others, I’m not holding your hand, hell I don’t even _want_ to hold your damn hand, okay?’

‘What the hell do you want then?’ Daryl snarls back.

‘I want you to _care_!’ Benji takes a deep breath and pushes the palms of his hands into his eyes. ‘You’re making me sound like a sixteen year old girl. Thanks.’

‘No, you’re doing that,’ Daryl says, ‘all by yourself.’

‘Are you so emotionally stunted that I honestly have to explain that when I come back from escaping death, I need you to _acknowledge_ me? That I need you to at least get up, say hi to me, and let me know that you give a damn! I’m not asking for declarations of eternal love in front of your family here. I’m asking whether you can… Fuck this.’ Benji shakes his head and zips his jacket up. ‘Fuck all of this. I’m not even going to discuss this anymore.’

Daryl watches how he runs shaking hands through his silver hair. There are bags under his eyes, there’s still blood on his sun-kissed skin. He smells of death.

He thinks about all the times they have escaped death. Terminus pops up immediately. That moment in the woods, digging up their guns while discussing their next move and a twig snapping behind him. Carol, carrying his bow and with that wary expression on her face as if she wasn’t sure that she would be welcome. He vaguely remembers running over to her. He clearly remembers hugging her, lifting her off her feet and letting his forehead rest on her collarbone.

He hadn’t thought about what anyone would think of that. What Rick was thinking, Glenn, Abraham. He hadn’t cared about the opinion of Maggie, of Michonne, hadn’t given a damn that Carl was right there with him.

He had thought about all those things when Benjamin first escaped death in order to safe Michonne and Carl, back on the roof of the library. When he came back, covered in blood and dazed, clinging to Rick and passing Daryl with a small nod because it had all been the worst-kept secret then.

It’s not a secret anymore.

Even if he wanted to, he can’t deny _this_ anymore. The fact that he somehow always finds the spot next to Benji at the campfire, the way they fall in step beside each other on the road, how they keep checking in on each other during their own chores.

And Benji is right, of course. He never reaches out to Daryl when they’re around their family. Never kisses him, never touches him, and when Daryl still feels crowded, he always allows the hunter to push him away or retreat and come back on his own terms. There are many jokes of course, some innuendo here, a crude remark there, but there’s always a teasing smirk around those pale lips and the subject is as easily dropped as taken up again days later.

‘Is this really because you don’t want them to see? Because I can deal with that,’ Benji says, deciding to soldier on instead of leaving the conversation be. ‘But ignoring me like that? That’s just cruel, Daryl.’

The hunter sighs and looks away.

‘You don’t ignore Rick when he comes back from a run. Or Carol. Michonne. You’re always the first to check whether they’re all right.’

‘You ain’t like them,’ Daryl murmurs.

‘Oh,’ Benji scoffs, ‘so now I’m treated worse _because_ you love me, that’s what I’m supposed to believe? I’m supposed to be _grateful_ for that or something? He ignores me so that must mean that he actually cares. We’re not in high school anymore, okay?’

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Oh my God,’ Benji groans. ‘Round and round we go. What, exactly, are you so scared of? They don’t give a damn, Daryl. I hate to break it to you, but they got more important things to worry about than who you would like to fuck.’

‘Shut your damn mouth,’ Daryl hisses.

‘ _Daryl Dixon thinks about fucking me_! See? No-one cares - _oh shit_.’

Neither of them ever saw Michonne leave her post but now she’s in Benji’s face. The anger in her eyes is unmistakable. ‘Lower your voice,’ she snarls.

‘Oh,’ Benji takes a stumbling step back, ‘I – I didn’t see you there, Mich. Hi. Yes, yes, sorry, I will lower my voice, sorry.’ He peeks around her, ‘this is an objection to the sound level, not the message. You got that, right, because-‘

‘This isn’t a joke,’ Michonne tells him as she shoves his shoulder roughly. ‘I’m not joking, Ben. We _all_ had a rough day and we _all_ need to get some rest. If you bring a herd down on us with that lovers spat you two are having? I’ll make damn sure you never say another thing again.’

Before Benji can say something, however, Daryl grabs Michonne by her arm to twirl her around. He steps into her space, their foreheads almost touching. ‘You threatenin’ him?’ His voice is a low growl.

Michonne narrows her eyes at him, ‘what? You’re going to beat my ass into the ground too?’

‘If you’re askin’ for it,’ Daryl tilts his head a little. ‘That rule? Never hit no girl? Ain’t what my daddy taught me.’

‘Stop,’ Benji interjects, ‘I’m sorry. This is just a misunderstanding. Daryl, back off.’

The woman snorts dismissively. ‘Your _daddy_ ,’ she says mockingly, ‘didn’t teach you anything.’

‘Did,’ Daryl objects with a nod. ‘Taught me that if you hit someone, ya gotta make sure it’s hard enough so they ain’t gettin’ up again.’ His hand balls into a fist.

‘You lay a hand on me,’ Michonne warns, ‘and I’ll cut it off. You and your dead bastard of a brother could become twins after all. I always thought you looked just like him.’

‘Guys, stop,’ Benji protests but Daryl shoves him back easily.

‘Ya mad because us Dixon’s like blonde’s better or something?’

Michonne snorts and takes a small step away from him. Then she laughs. A hand comes up and she cups Daryl’s cheek, her thumb brushing over the beauty spot near his lip. ‘You asshole,’ she says fondly. ‘Keep it down, okay? We’re not safe here.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Daryl and Benji mutter at the same time.

‘Good boys,’ she smiles before making her way back to the small building to resume her watch duty. ‘Now kiss and make up, in plain sight, please.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘We will.’

Daryl glares at Benji who smirks back.

The younger man leans back against the car and crosses his arm. He scuffs his boot on a cracked stone. ‘Okay, so that blew up in my face. She’s feisty. You know what? I’ll never understand the dynamics between you and Mich. I’m never sure whether you’re going to murder each other or team up on someone.’

Daryl scoffs at that. He watches how Benji’s shoulder slump, the bags under his eyes, the way he leans his whole body weight against the car behind him. ‘You haven’t slept yet,’ he says.

‘Neither have you,’ Benji lifts an eyebrow. ‘So?’

‘You look like death.’

His friend laughs humorlessly and stares up at the night sky. ‘Great. Insult my looks while you’re at it. That’s really something I can use right about now.’

Daryl closes his eyes to take a deep breath. When he opens them again, he steps closer to his friend. A tentative hand comes to rest on the belt, near Charlotte’s gun. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says.

‘About insulting my looks? You do it all the time and I know you never mean it. That,’ Benji says when he meets the hunter’s eye, ‘ _that_ is exactly what’s wearing me down. I _know_.  I know you like the way I look, okay? And I know you wanted me to come back and that you were scared for me. I know for a goddamn fact that you love me, but it would be nice if you showed it.’

‘I’m sorry. You’re right.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ the hunter echoes.

Daryl’s fingers tighten on Benji’s hip, they curl around the belt loop and use it to drag him close for a tight hug. His arms around those strong but slumped shoulders, his nose buried in that mop of silver hair. They fit together perfectly. He sighs when he feels that the younger man surrenders, one arm coming up around his waist, the other on his back, crossing over his angel wings and the scars beneath them.

‘Daryl.’

Benji groans softly when Rick’s voice registers. ‘I hate your brother,’ he mutters into the hunter’s neck. ‘Him and his fucking timing. Everyone and everything is cock-blocking me these days. Not that me hugging you has anything to do with your cock, because that would just be exhausting. I hug you so much. I mean, I’m a guy but still…’

‘Hmm. Shut up.’ Daryl murmurs as he lifts his gaze to see Rick stalking over to them. The former sheriff scans their surroundings, a hand on his gun as he crosses the parking lot. The sharp gaze comes to rest on his brother.

Daryl tenses.

Benji sighs and reluctantly steps back. He puts his hands in his pockets and wobbles on his feet. ‘Hey, Rick,’ he greets when the older man joins them.

‘Benji,’ he nods in return before turning to Daryl. ‘Did you just get back?’

‘Yeah. The creek runs north of here, ‘bout a mile over yonder,’ Daryl waves vaguely to his right. ‘No sign of that damn herd.’

‘Yeah, well, we didn’t see it coming last time either,’ Rick counters with a sigh. He puts his hands on his hips and cocks his head to the side, ‘you all right?’

‘Fine.’

Benji scuffs his boot again on the stones, ‘I’m going to get some sleep now if that’s okay, Rick.’

The former cop frowns, ‘you stayed up all night?’

The silver-haired man nods and looks away. ‘Yeah. Daryl was still out there.’ He rubs at the back of his neck, ‘Anyway, thanks. Good night.’

‘Good night.’ Rick claps him on the shoulder as he walks by.

Daryl just nods. He tucks his hands under the pit of his arms and keeps watch.

They both listen to Benji’s fading footsteps.

Rick sucks on his teeth. He glances at Daryl, then the tree line before looking at his watch. One hand comes up to rub at his jaw, fingers scratching through his beard. He lowers his head for a second, ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘If you don’t fuck off after him now, brother, I’m not going to haul him off of you next time he decides to punch your teeth in.’

Daryl looks at him.

‘Clock’s ticking,’ Rick tells him. ‘Trust me, I’ve been married. You don’t want to know what happens when time runs out. Hurry up after him. Get some rest.’

Daryl hesitates. His first instinct is to object. Not only to the fact that he and Benji are sure as hell not married, but also to the fact that they’re anything that might warrant such a claim. Rick might laugh at Benji’s innuendo jokes but to have it rubbed in his face? He can see the nervous twitches, the way Rick won’t stand still. He’s uncomfortable.

‘Ain’t like that,’ Daryl says. ‘He was mad ‘bout the gun, is all. We switched. It’s all good.’

Rick stares at him, a bit dumbstruck before blinking. His face breaks out in an astonished grin. ‘ _Daryl Dixon thinks about fucking me_!’ He laughs at Daryl’s outraged face, ‘everyone who was awake heard, man.’

‘Who the fuck’s awake?’ Daryl demands.

‘Beside me and Michonne? Glenn. Tara and Rosita were talking.’ He laughs and scratches at his cheek again, ‘I think Carol might have been up too. Abe, maybe Eug-‘

‘So everyone.’

‘No, no,’ Rick snorts, ‘Carl and Judith were definitely asleep, man. And they better be next time he decides to disclose such things. There will be no sex-talk around my kids, Dixon. Not by your boy, not by Maggie, Tara, Abe, not by no one, got it?’

‘Tara’s gettin’ some?’

‘Not that I know,’ he frowns a little. ‘You don’t have to be getting some to talk about sex.’

Daryl opens his mouth.

‘Don’t even try to pretend you’re not gettin’ some, man,’ Rick laughs softly. ‘You’ve been practically skipping around camp, you looked so goddamn happy. You’re teaching my boy how to use your bow, you taught Tara how to make those snares, hell, you let Carol give you a cut. I’ve never seen you this laid back, man.’ The sheriff rolls his eyes when the hunter glares again. ‘That stunt you pulled when we came back? That wasn’t right.’

Daryl looks down at his boots.

‘He’s been very patient. Far too patient if you ask me.’

‘No one’s askin’ you.’

‘Fair enough. And you’re my brother, I’ll always be on your side, but you’re wrong about this, whatever it is. You suddenly got cold feet seeing him almost being torn apart by walkers? Or are you trying to convince yourself he was just an easy fuck for you? Nah. Stop it with the bullshit, man.’ He grins and puts his hands on his hips, cocking his head a little to the side . ‘You know, we didn’t really need Benji’s declaration to know that you think about him like that, okay? He’s your guy. Has been since he saved us back at the library. We get it.

And like I said, man; he’s been real patient. That hug just now, first time I’ve seen you two close since you ripped a man’s heart out of his chest for him.’

Daryl snorts dismissively. ‘Ya don’t know jack. Stop stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong, a’right, officer friendly? Don’t need your advice.’

’You’re fucking it all up,’ Rick tells him. ‘And he’s going to find someone else. Just a fair warning, brother.’

‘Bullshit,’ Daryl murmurs as he pushes past Rick and heads back towards the gas station.

The former cop watches him go. After a couple of minutes, he climbs up the small building to join Michonne. The woman looks at him with an arched eyebrow. ‘Tough love?’

‘He needed it,’ Rick nods as he sits down on the edge of the roof.

‘Why?’

‘Because now he’s going to prove that he’s not fucking it up, which means he’ll have to show his hand, which is exactly what Benji wants him to do.’ Rick sighs and rubs at the back of his neck. ‘That guy…’ He shakes his head and looks up at Michonne, ‘every single time we’re in a tight spot he just appears like a goddamn miracle, you know that? This is the second time he saved Carl.’

‘And how many times have _you_ saved him? _Daryl_?’ She sits down next to him.

‘I know, but we’re weaker without him. I don’t want him to walk out because of this thing he has with Daryl.’

‘This _thing_? Men, you’re all the same.’

‘Maybe, but when he didn’t follow Ben to get some sleep? Damn, I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown. Sleeping on the couch is not really an option here. And, you know,’ he clears his throat as if he’s embarrassed, ‘we’d be at a tactical disadvantage if we’re all spread out.’

Michonne snorts. ‘You’re rooting for them. Just admit it.’

Rick smiles at her. He puts a hand on her knee. ‘I’m rooting for them.’

 

Daryl slips into the bathroom of the gas station. It’s dark and it smells of stale urine, decay and vermin. There’s dried blood on the walls. There are four cubicles.

His family is spread out over the room. Judith is asleep on Carl’s chest, the sheriff’s hat covers the teenager’s face but the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest indicates that he’s asleep.

Maggie and Glenn are curled up beside them. The Korean is asleep, his head in his wife’s lap, her fingers slowly carding through the dark hair.

Carol is talking quietly to Sasha.

It takes him a couple of second to find Benji, even though the room is small. He sometimes still finds himself looking for the shockingly blond mop of hair instead of the silver that blends with the shadows. The younger man is on the floor in the corner furthest away from the door. One arm is looped around his backpack which he uses as a pillow. His free hand is curled up under his chin.

Daryl steps over Eugene to get to him. The fake scientist shifts his legs so there’s more room next to Benji.

The bow is placed next to Benji’s backpack. He slowly lowers himself to the ground, settling in with his back against the wall.

The silver-haired man lifts his head long enough to check who’s joining him. ‘Oh, hey.’

‘Hey.’ Instead of leaning back against the wall like he usually does, he now leans forward to curl a hand around Benji’s hipbone, drawing the younger man against his front.

Benji grumbles a bit, dragging his backpack closer again and settling down, allowing their legs to entangle. ‘What’re you doing?’

‘Gettin’ some sleep.’

‘Right.’ Benji sighs, ‘well, good night then.’

‘Good night.’ Daryl lets his hand glide up over the hipbone, the belly, to curl around his ribs, feeling the heart beat faintly. He listens to the rest of the group, but no one seems to pay them any mind. When morning comes, they will be able to see them in the corner. He should move back, away.

Instead, he tightens his hold. Let’s his lips brush over the shell of Benji’s right ear. ‘I love you,’ he whispers.

‘If I turn around now and sleep on you instead of a lumpy backpack filled with tin cans, are you going to punch me?’

‘No.’

‘Are you going to shove me off of you come sunrise?’

‘Maybe.’

Benji sighs and turns around, shoving his backpack out of the way and curling into the hunter’s frame. ‘At least you’re honest. Secret kiss?’

Except that it won’t be secret because everyone knows.

‘Yeah,’ Daryl dips his head and kisses him.


	9. Step up

 

* * *

 

 

‘Guys,’ Glenn is hugging his own midriff when he walks over to where Rick, Daryl, Benji and Michonne are standing. The latter two just returned from the creek with several bottles of fresh water. The sun is high in the sky. It’s hot. Bugs are buzzing around them while birds rustle in the trees surrounding them. The bottles will only last them a day.

Rick passes a bottle to Daryl, who takes a careful sip while keeping his eye on the Korean.

‘I need to talk to you.’

‘Ain’t that what you’re doin’ already?’

Benji shifts his weight to catch the hunter’s eye and gives him a warning look. ‘What’s up, Glenn?’ He keeps his voice light and calm despite the conversation they were just having. The trips to the creek are well enough, but they’re running out of supplies. Soon, they will be living on water and whatever meat Daryl can get them, which won’t be enough. He might be an excellent hunter, but like all things now, it’s hit and miss, and their group is too big to be able to live off rabbits and squirrels for much longer.

Glenn takes a deep breath, ‘I know this is the worst possible timing and we didn’t plan on this but…’ He swallows thickly and looks away.

‘Spit it out,’ Daryl grumbles as he wipes sweat off of his neck.

‘Maggie is pregnant.’

Silence rings out after that statement. Rick’s eyebrows shoot up and his gaze finds Michonne’s, who looks just as surprised. Daryl freezes with his hand still on the back of his neck, the bottle of water in his hand.

‘Whoa, congratulations,’ Benji says as he glances from their leader to Daryl before stepping up to Glenn with a wide smile on his face. He hugs the Korean, clapping him on the back, ‘what the fuck have I been risking my life for, bringing you guys those condoms, eh?’

Glenn laughs into his shoulder as he hugs his friend tightly. ‘Thanks. It happened at Genesis, we thought we were in a safe place, you know? We just…. We took a chance.’

‘And now we’re out here,’ Daryl says.

Benji ignores him and pulls back, letting his hand rest on Glenn’s shoulder. ‘Seriously, congratulations, that’s great news. Genesis? That’s been weeks.’

‘We think she’s two months now. We weren’t sure before so we didn’t want to tell you all, but… we’re sure.’

‘Congratulations,’ Michonne says as she gives him a brief hug.

‘Thanks. We know it’s not the best time, but we just-‘

‘There’s never a good time,’ Rick interjects with a wave of his hand. ‘Before it was bills and careers and too small apartments, now it’s walkers and food and baby clothes. There might never be a good time, but it’s a good thing. Congratulations.’

Daryl wipes his nose on the back of his hand, ‘she knows ya tellin’ us?’

They all glance at Maggie, who is helping Abraham and Eugene to clean their guns. The dark hair falls into her face and she pushes it back behind her ear with a small smile whenever Eugene says something and Abraham rolls his eyes.

‘No,’ Glenn admits. ‘She didn’t want me to tell you. She thought we had enough to worry about.’

‘This is important,’ Michonne points out. ‘It’s something we all should know.’

‘Why?’ Benji asks with a frown. ‘It doesn’t change anything about the situation we’re in.’

‘Of course it does,’ the woman counters. ‘We need to find a safe place for her, stock up on food and-‘

‘That’s what we have been doing,’ Benji argues. ‘We _all_ need a safe place and we _all_ need food. You’re absolutely right,’ he says when Michonne opens her mouth again. ‘You’re right, that’s what we need to do and we’ve been trying, okay? Just need to step up our game now, that’s all.’

‘ _Step up our game_?’ Rick asks as he puts his hands on his hips. ‘And how are we going to do that?’

Benji glances at Daryl. ‘We have one bike and one car. We haven’t been able to find a second car and not everyone fits in ours, so we’ve been moving at a snail’s pace. There’s no food around here and we can’t stay at this gas station forever.’

‘So?’

‘So,’ Benji continues, ‘you’re going to have to let me and Daryl go out on a run.’

‘You have been going out on runs.’

‘Yeah, to the creek and back, to the snares and back! That’s not going to solve anything. It’s just a temporary fix for a bigger problem. We need to find a new home and we need to find it fast so we can stock up, get ready for this baby. Let me and Daryl go out on the bike, we’ll scout the area.’

‘The area is _clear_ ,’ Rick says with a stern tone in his voice. He straightens his back, blue eyes cold with authority. ‘We checked. There’s nothing here.’

‘We checked every house within _walking_ distance. I’m saying that Daryl and I should take the bike and go out to find something. Anything. Three days, maybe four.’

‘You want to split up?’ Daryl asks as he squints at his friend.

‘Yeah, cover some ground fast.’

Rick shifts his weight and scoffs, ‘and what happens when you’re out there and something happens? What happens when another herd tears through this part and we need to cut and run again? No. We’re staying together.’

‘Then we’re going to die,’ Benji hisses, ‘ _slowly_.’

Rick gives him a cold look. ‘We’re done here.’

For a brief moment Benji looks like he wants to put up a fight, but Daryl glances at him and he falls silent. ‘Okay, Rick. It’s your call.’

‘Come on,’ The former cop looks at Glenn, ‘let’s get back to the group.’

‘Sure,’ Glenn nods as he follows him, Michonne falls in step behind them. After a second he turns and points at Daryl and Benji. ‘Don’t tell Maggie I told you guys first. You better all act surprised when she breaks the news, okay?’

‘Think I’m going ‘round gossipin’ about you knockin’ people up?’ Daryl asks with a lifted eyebrow.

‘I’m not _knocking people up_ , my _wife_ is – ‘

‘We won’t tell anyone,’ Benji interrupts with a pacifying smile. ‘Promise. And I’ll be super surprised while Daryl will scoff and glare, okay? Same old, same old. You can count on us being predictable!’

Glenn smiles at him and shakes his head, ‘weirdo.’

Benji salutes him. He leans into Daryl’s side as the others walk away. The hunter lets him. ‘You didn’t congratulate him,’ the younger man says when they’re out of earshot. ‘Why?’

Daryl nods and scuffs his boots, kicking one against the other. ‘Lori,’ he squints down the road leading south, ‘Carl’s mom,’ he clarifies even though he doesn’t need to. Benji’s heard enough stories about her to know how important she’d been to both Rick and Carl, as well as the group. ‘Hmm. We thought we’d found a safe place for her to give birth, for Judy to spend her first years at least. Weren’t enough.’

‘Maggie isn’t Lori. And we’re not at your prison.’

‘Nah,’ Daryl scoffs, ‘we’re out in the middle of nowhere with no destination, no food, no provisions.’

‘So we find a place and we make damn sure that what went wrong last time, won’t happen now,’ Benji counters. ‘We know so now we can prepare.’

‘By goin’ out there with nothing but a hail mary and blind faith? That ain’t us.’

‘And starving ain’t us either. Daryl, we need to starting _doing_ something.’

He knows it’s true. It’s not like they’ve been sitting on their asses all day and night either, they _have_ been doing something but it hasn’t been enough. Like getting the water every morning just to have to do it again the next day. They’ve been surviving, barely.

They need something that will sustain them on the long run. Canned food is getting harder and harder to find. He knows that it will all run out eventually.

For a brief second, his mind wanders to Hershel’s farm. He quickly shut it down.

‘A’right,’ he tells his friend before gently pushing him away. ‘I’ll talk to Rick.’

‘Do you think he’ll agree to send us out? I mean, _I_ think it’s a good plan. Do you?’

‘Beats walkin’.’

‘Yeah,’ Benji nods with a small smile. ‘It does. Think he’ll listen?’

Daryl tilts his chin a bit higher, ‘go ‘nd pack your stuff up. We’re leavin’ in an hour.’

‘Cocky,’ Benji chides.

Daryl smiles as he clutches to his crossbow. He forgets that his hair isn’t shielding his expression anymore. Blue eyes glance up at his friend, spots him looking right back with a fond smile playing around his pale lips.

‘Take a picture,’ Daryl mutters before turning on his heels and following in Rick’s footsteps.

‘Wish I could.’

 

‘Yes, yes,’ Benji moans while he tears himself away from Rosita, ‘I have sharpened my blade, I have my gun. I even have a flare-gun I don’t know how to – _I know how to use it_!’ He hurriedly says when Rick opens his mouth and steps forward. ‘Jesus; a joke, guys. A joke.’ He whines when Rick frowns disapprovingly, ‘mom, dad, please let me go out now. I promise I won’t drink and drive, okay?’

‘Hey,’ Rick puts a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. ‘Cut it out for a second. Look at me.’

‘Rick,’ Benji shrugs the hands off and puts his own on the former cop’s shoulder. ‘We’re going to be _fine_. And yes, I will keep an eye on him and he’ll put a bolt in me if I do something stupid. We’re good to go.’

‘You know the back-up plan?’

‘You wrote it down and made me read it, I’ll know it for the rest of my life. Not exactly Shakespeare, but I guess I’ll just have to live with that.’

‘Guess you will,’ Rick brings him in for a rough hug. ‘No more than seven days, agreed?’

‘Well, we agreed to nine days over by our cubicles, eight over by the curb and now we’re down to seven?’

‘A week’s long enough.’

‘You’re right. Seven days and not a second longer. We’ll probably be back before then, so don’t go anywhere, all right?’ He’s smiling when they let go of each other. Rick opens his mouth. ‘Yes,’ Benji moans, ‘if you did go somewhere, it’ll be part of the back-up plan I have memorized and Daryl knows too. Yes, yes, _yes_. We know it. Seriously, why aren’t you all over Daryl too?’

‘Because he wouldn’t let me,’ Rick murmurs while he checks Benji’s gun.

‘Good point,’ Benji grins while he patiently waits for his gun to be placed back in his holster. ‘I know how nerves fray with age, so… _Kidding_. All right, I offended Rick,’ he calls out to Daryl, ‘time to go!’

The hunter is leaning against his bike, arms crossed, while he talks to Carol. He glances up when his friend makes the announcement and then turns back to her, mumbling something before giving her a pat on her shoulder.

‘Nine lives,’ she says as she steps back to watch him swing his leg over the bike.

‘Bye, love,’ Benji kisses her cheek, ‘see you soon.’

‘Hey,’ she grabs his hand to yank him back. ‘Be careful.’

‘We will be. Seven days without me talking. Relish it, treasure it, miss it when it ends, okay? We really need to get going now. Ready, Daryl?’

The hunter pulls his black bandana up to cover his mouth and nose. He starts the engine, shifting to get comfortable before nodding and pointing at the empty spot behind him with his thumb.

Benji slides into the spot, putting his feet on the pegs before putting one hand on Daryl’s hip. ‘Hey,’ he reaches out to Carol with the other hand, squeezing her fingers, ‘we love you.’

Daryl glances at her and ducks his head.

‘Go,’ Carol smiles.

‘Copy that,’ Benji puts his arm around his friend. ‘You heard her. Let’s roll.’

 

‘What’s wrong?’ Daryl pulls the bandana down and twists in the seat to look at Benji, who is climbing off the bike.

‘My butt fucking hurts,’ the younger man says as he stumbles away a few paces. He looks around the deserted road. ‘You know where we are, right? Because I have absolutely no idea. Do you think Rick knows I can’t read maps for shit?’

‘Dunno,’ Daryl shuts the engine off and swings his bag in front of him, taking out a canister filled with water. ‘Reckon not.’

‘No, reckon not, or he wouldn’t have let us go. Did you see him back there? Adorable.’

‘Adorable? Guy freaks out about losing his family and you call him adorable?’

Benji shrugs, ‘he’s not losing us.’

‘Don’t know that.’

‘ _Do_ know that. We’re coming back and the rest is safe together.’ The younger man reaches for the dark heavens in order to stretch. ‘What?’ He asks as he catches Daryl’s gaze. ‘Do you think we’ve made a mistake coming out here?’

Daryl shrugs and leans on the tank in front of him. ‘Ain’t nothing out here.’

‘I love your optimism,’ Benji deadpans. He sits down on the curb and waves at the hunter. ‘Talk to me. What’s up now?’

Daryl sighs. ‘Nothing,’ he rubs at his forehead. ‘You good for two more miles? There’s a motel, bar, another gas station. Let’s check it out, crash there.’

‘Motel?’ Benji perks up, ‘no camping?’

‘No camping,’ Daryl smirks back, ‘unless it’s infested with walkers.’

‘Oh no,’ Benji scrambles to get to his feet and slides back onto the bike, ‘you said no camping. I can deal with hundreds of walkers to get a decent bed. Damn,’ he shifts uncomfortably, ‘how do you do this every day? Seriously, it hurts, man.’

‘Stop being such a goddamn pussy.’

‘ _Well, someone slap my butt and give me a hero cookie_. Sherrilyn Kenyon.’

Daryl frowns and looks back over his shoulder.

Benji shrugs. ‘Surprisingly enough, I didn’t have quote that would point out that the fact that my butt hurts after riding on the back of your bike for hours doesn’t make me a pussy. Though, admit it, that one came pretty close.’

The hunter can’t help but laugh at that. ‘You fuckin’ idiot.’

‘The first two words made such a promising start to that sentence. Okay,’ Benji settles again, ‘I’m good. What?’

‘Nothing,’ Daryl mutters as he twists the key and start the engine again.

 

‘There’s no one out there.’

Daryl glances at his friend, who is sitting on the bed with his back against the wall. The silver hair glistens whenever he looks down at his hands. He’s cleaning his fingernails with his knife. The eyes shine even in the darkness of the night.

‘You’re making me nervous with your constant checking of the road and I can’t sleep.’

Daryl looks back out of the window where the road stretches endlessly, melting into the night until there’s nothing left. He can’t even see the horizon. ‘Read your book,’ he says softly, pushing the curtain aside to check the other side of the road.

‘Can’t. You told me to travel light. I gave it to Tara to read.’

‘’t is a shitty motel room but there must be something you can read.’

‘There’s a bible in the nightstand, ironically enough.’

‘Ironically?’

‘It’s a seedy motel room. Nothing gospel happened here.’

Daryl nods and one corner of his mouth twists upwards.

There are questionable stains on the carpet, on the bed sheets, on the walls even. Burn marks on the wooden table, the smell of drugs, loneliness and despair still heavy in the air. The bathroom had been surprisingly clean but has a hole in the door that could only have been made by a balled fist and drunken anger. There’s dust everywhere. The room hasn’t been in use for a long time now.

They cleared the first floor rooms. It wasn’t that hard. A couple in the very last room, a single walker in the room next to theirs. People trying to get home when it all went to shit, maybe, or just people who had nowhere else to go.

‘Have you ever been to a place like this?’

Daryl nods.

‘Road trip?’

‘Nah.’

Benji sighs and lets his head thud back against the wall. ‘Drugs, alcohol or a girl?’

Daryl glances at him, ‘all of them. And then some.’

‘At the same time?’

‘Sometimes,’ Daryl admits. ‘Like you said; nothing gospel happened then neither.’

Benji smiles and lets his blade spin on the palm of his hand. ‘Was she pretty?’ He lifts an eyebrow when the hunter frowns. ‘The last girl you took to a place like this, was she pretty?’

‘Real pretty,’ Daryl nods as he turns back to the window.

‘What did she look like?’

‘What the hell do you care?’

‘I don’t,’ Benji snorts. ‘I’m just fucking bored. Come on, tell me.’

The hunter gives him an uncomfortable look, ‘nah, man.’

‘What, you turned in a gentleman overnight, you don’t kiss and tell?’ Benji laughs, ‘want me to go first? Fine,’ he says when Daryl just looks at him. ‘Last time didn’t happen at a seedy motel. College campus, but I doubt that’s any better. She was a friend of my roommate at the time. We hooked up at a party, went back to my place. Next week I called her and she never picked up. Two weeks later she texted, asking me to stop calling.’ He laughs, ‘her name was Chloe.’

‘You were into her?’ Daryl asks before he can stop himself.

‘Guess,’ Benji shrugs. ‘She was nice and all.’

‘Not nice enough to call ya back,’ the hunter leers.

‘Touché,’ the younger man puts his knife on the nightstand and then settles down to get some sleep. ‘So, spill. I told you about mine, tell me about yours.’

Daryl looks away. ‘A place like this, couple of months before the outbreak.’

‘What was she like?’

‘Don’t remember much,’ the hunter mutters as he fidgets with the hem of the curtain. ‘We had a job in another town, me and Merle, and we hit the bar after. Shady place. Got drunk, then high. Lady comes up to me, brown hair, I think, said she knew a place.’

‘You went with her?’

‘Yeah. Happened a lot in those bars. The beer’s shitty and drugs dodgy, no one came there just to hang out. You found someone, you upped and left. Was the kind of place everyone knew off, right? So sometimes there were these women who just thought; fuck it. Soccer moms lookin’ for a thrill, rent-girls on their nights off, hell, all kinds of people.’

Benji nods his understanding. ‘And the woman you left with that night?’

‘Probably married with kids,’ Daryl shrugs. ‘She didn’t look like a girl from the streets, that’s for sure.’

‘She was _married_?’

‘Probably. Why? Weren’t my fault if she were cheatin’ on her guy and she sure as hell weren’t my problem.’

‘You didn’t feel guilty about fucking another man’s wife?’

‘No. _She_ picked _me_ up. Hell, I was so wasted I couldn’t even remember whether _I_ were married. If you get blue balls because of some dirty red-neck in the wrong kind of bar, then your marriage is long gone already. Weren’t on me.’

Benji shakes his head, ‘sometimes it feels like we were born in two different worlds.’

‘We were.’

‘Glad they collided inside the apocalypse though,’ Benji stretches and then curls up, fluffing the pillow a bit and sighing contently when he lays his head down on it. ‘Hey. If that’s what happened there, and with your mom and dad…’ He frowns a little, ‘do you think marriage is, like, stupid?’

‘Ain’t gonna marry you.’

Benji stares at him for a second before snorting. ‘No, Jesus. Agreed, we are _not_ going to get married.’ He laughs, ‘I was just wondering. Glenn and Maggie got married during all of this, right?’

‘Worked for them,’ Daryl shrugs.

‘They met at the farm of Maggie’s dad? Hershel, wasn’t it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And you met Glenn at that place near Atlanta?’

‘Yeah.’

Benji smiles into his pillow, undisturbed by the clipped answers. ‘What were they like?’

Daryl bites on his thumb, ‘Maggie hasn’t changed much.’

‘But Glenn has?’ the younger man prompts.

‘Was one twitchy son of a bitch when I met him. Had balls, though.’

‘This is where you launch into the story of how you met, exactly,’ Benji murmurs as he closes his eyes. ‘Just giving you a heads up.’

Daryl puts his foot on the windowsill, presses his back against the wall and lets his head lull back so he can see his friend on the bed. One hand on his bended knee, fingers scratching at a tear in his jeans. ‘What if we don’t find anything out here?’ He asks instead.

‘Then we’ll think of something else.’ Benji yawns and rubs at one of his closed eyes.

Daryl bites on his thumb, hard, before lowering his hand again. ‘A’right,’ he agrees as he turns his attention back towards the road. ‘Merle and I were on our way to Atlanta when we ran into Glenn and the people he were with. These two blonde girls, right, so Merle reckoned he could-‘

Benji listens to the story until he falls asleep.


	10. Acquired taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A really long chapter this time, sorry.
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Specific chapter warning; mention of previous suicidal/self-harming actions

 

* * *

 

 

‘Will Daryl Dixon please report to the CEO’s office for a quick kiss? I repeat; will Daryl Dixon please report to the CEO’s office for a quick kiss? Thank you.’

Daryl slowly turns around.

Benji is leaning over the console with one hand wrapped around a microphone which used to be connected to the intercom system. He laughs when the hunter lifts his eyebrows. He pretends to push a button. ‘Will Daryl Dixon please come collect his kiss now? The CEO is pining. Thank you.’

‘What the fuck are ya doin’?’

‘Oh come on,’ Benji grins, ‘I’ve always wanted to use the intercom for something terribly inappropriate. That is my chance. Report to the CEO, Dixon. I’m waiting.’

‘Who died and made you CEO?’

Benji grimaces and points at the rotting body of a walker he had stabbed in the head a couple of minutes ago.

‘Fair enough,’ Daryl nods. ‘You realize it ain’t working no more, right?’

‘ _No_ ,’ the younger man breathes, faking surprise and amazement. ‘Almost a year after the apocalypse and you’re telling me we ran out of _power_? How the fuck did that happen?’ He pushes the button frantically, ‘hello? Hello? I’m begging Daryl Dixon to come give the CEO a kiss. Thank you.’

Daryl snorts and the younger man laughs. He walks over to his friend, who grins and raises an eyebrow in a silent question. Daryl puts his hands on Benji’s slim hips, pushes him up against the console before capturing those smiling lips with his own. Benji gives a surprised grunt before looping an arm around the hunter’s neck to anchor himself.

‘That actually worked?’ He asks when they part for a second, ‘you sure the system’s bust?’

‘Pretty sure,’ Daryl nods. His fingers burry in silver hair of his friend as he locks their mouths together again, his tongue begging entrance hungrily. Benji allows it entrance with a small groan of pleasure.

Hips grind together as hands wander over faces, arms, under shirts, dipping just under belts, tugging the other closer. Daryl’s come to rest on the small buttons of Benji’s dress shirt. He undoes them between heated kisses.

‘Fuck,’ Benji grins, pupils blown wide and lips glistening and far too red.

The last button pops open to reveal sun-kissed skin. Daryl’s rough hands glide over smooth skin, brush over nipples before rounding over ribs and moving lower, over those jeans to grab hold of his ass. With a soft grunt, Daryl lifts Benji up and pushes him backwards so he now sits on the console, boots thudding against the metal.

He kisses Benji’s jaw, trails open mouthed kisses down that neck towards his chest.

The younger man arches into his touch. His hands on the console behind him, leaning back on it to give Daryl more space. He gasps when Daryl licks his left nipple. ‘Fuck, gorgeous,’ his head lulls back when that tongue licks over his muscles, past that bellybutton until soft lips kiss along the softness of his belly.

Daryl’s chin touches the belt buckle. He looks up.

Benji is looking at him with hooded eyes, chest rising and falling as his breathing becomes heavier with lust. He rolls his hips when Daryl’s hand moves to the belt buckle.

Daryl smirks a little and undoes the belt, fumbles a bit with the buttons on Benji’s jeans and then taps the younger man’s thighs. ‘Up,’ he murmurs.

Benji leans back even further on his hands and raises his hips. The jeans pool at his feet.

With his right hand, Daryl caresses Benji’s lean chest while the left helps Benji to push his underwear down. He digs his fingertips in the silver-haired man’s skin when he tries to sit up and touch Daryl. ‘Don’t,’ the hunter says. He bats the hand away from his own belt.

‘Why not?’ Benji asks, voice husky.

‘You’re distracting as fuck.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ Daryl grabs hold of the collar of Benji’s jacket and yanks him close. The mouths collide, teeth clicking together before they settle into the hot kiss. It takes a second to register that the younger man tastes of mint. That familiar tang of toothpaste, and when Daryl runs his hand through his silver hair, he can feel the product in it. He grins into the kiss.

‘You’re so fucking hot,’ Benji breathes against his lips as he smooths Daryl’s hair back. He bites at the lower lip before kissing him deeply again.

Daryl moans. The hair at the back of his neck stands up when Benji rakes his fingers over his sides, under the shirt. He nuzzles the younger man’s neck, sucking at the skin and tasting the salt of his sweat. One of his hands moves down and tugs at Benji’s underwear.

Benji lifts his hips again, hissing a bit when his bare skin touches the metal of the console. ‘It’s a million degrees outside, how can this be cold,’ he complains but falls abruptly silent when Daryl wraps his hand around his cock. He chokes on a moan, head falling back as he gazes at the ceiling. ‘ _Fuck_.’

The hunter hums and twists his hand, thumb stroking over the slit of his friend’s penis. He watches how Benji’s breath hitches, fascinated by the responses his hand evokes. Those green eyes that flutter shut now, the muscles shifting in his shoulders as he braces himself, the involuntary twitches of his hips, not quite fucking Daryl’s hand but also unable to keep still.

‘Yeah, tighter,’ Benji orders.

Daryl tightens his grip, moving his hand up and down steadily. It doesn’t take long for his hand to become slickened with pre-come. He watches it dribble down the shaft, run over his fingers.

He swallows thickly and stills his hand, holding Benji at the base. His other hand cups his balls, rolling them around and gently pulling, the way he likes it himself. The younger man bites his lower lip and groans, arching his back a little.

There’s heat tingling up Daryl’s spine as well. His erection presses against the buttons of his jeans. He shifts a little so he can grind it against the console.

‘Fuck you’re good,’ Benji laughs. One of his hands finds his own right nipple and rubs at it.

Daryl smiles and then steels himself. One hand still at the base of that cock, the other now sliding over Benji’s muscled thigh, and then he leans down to kiss that leaking tip.

‘ _Fuck_!’ The younger man hadn’t seen it coming and his hips buck unexpectedly, causing his cock to bump against Daryl’s cheek. The hunter pins his hips down with his forearm and tries again.

Green eyes fly open when he licks the throbbing cock from the base up to that sensitive tip. It has a strange taste, salty like the sweat on his neck and chest but with a more bitter tang to it. Daryl pumps his hand again and then licks over the slit, lapping up the pre-come gathered there.

He looks up at Benji, who’s staring back at him, eyes wide but dark.

‘Gotta order me around a bit,’ Daryl tells him. ‘Ain’t never been on the giving end here.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Benji says, a bit too quick, and he winces. ‘Just… if you’re sure.’

‘I’m sure,’ the hunter answers.

‘Okay,’ Benji takes a deep breath. ‘Okay, can I put my hand in your hair?’

‘Hmm-hmm.’

Slim fingers burry themselves in that dark hair instantly, rubbing at the scalp. ‘Just, do whatever. Mind your teeth if you’re going all the way.’

‘That’s your idea of teachin’?’ Daryl mocks, ‘just do whatever?’

‘Hard to think when you’re about to suck me off,’ Benji laughs.

‘Hmm,’ Daryl hums before sliding his lips over the tip. He’s had many blowjobs before, knows exactly what will drive him over the edge, but it feels awkward to do it to someone else. He’s scared of nicking the other man with his sharp teeth and doesn’t know exactly what to do with his hands.

‘Oh my god,’ Benji moans, fingers tightening on the scalp. ‘Yes. Okay, breathe, try to breathe through your nose.’

Daryl pulls back, nods and lets the younger man guide him back. His lips slide over the heated flesh, feeling the veins. He lets his tongue push against it and sucks gently.

‘Yes, yes, like that,’ Benji encourages. ‘God, that’s so hot, look at you.’

Daryl bobs his head up and down. After a couple of seconds, he takes it too deep and gags, pulling away roughly.

‘Easy, easy,’ Benji warns, ‘gotta relax your throat. Don’t worry about taking it all the way, okay? Just… what you did just now, that was go - _oooh_.’ Benji’s jaw goes slack and his arms tremble when Daryl swallows him. ‘With your hand - yeah, like that. Oh my God.’

Daryl resists the urge to smirk. He bobs his head, closing his eyes and focusing on what he’s doing. His hand cups Benji’s balls. He enjoys the sensation of Benji’s fingers in his hair, sometimes just resting, other times guiding him to a better angle. When he draws back, he spits on that thick cock, licking his own saliva and the pre-cum up in one fluent swipe.

Benji groans and bites his lip again. ‘I’m close.’

The hunter seals his lips around his cock. He can feel the fingers grab hold of his hair.

‘You don’t have to swallow, God,’ the younger man squeezes his eyes shut, ‘gonna come. Daryl, I’m –‘

Daryl pushes his hips down against the console and feels the muscles tighten, spasm, and then his tongue is coated with cum. It’s more than he’d expected. He swallow before he chokes on it.

Benji groans, fingers grabbing hold of Daryl’s hair; the grip so tight it almost hurts. He whimpers when his body calms down again. The hold slackens.

With a dirty pop, Daryl lets the cock slide from between his lips. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hands as he rises to his feet again. Hurriedly, he undoes his own belt and buttons, shoving his jeans and underwear down his thighs . He wraps a hand around his cock, stroking it rapidly.

He glances up at Benji’s face, blissed out and smiling. The strong features, his jaw line, the mussed hair, the sweat cooling in the dips of his collarbones, he takes it all in. That lean torso, those scars from the glass he’d fallen through, the scar on in face, neck, collarbone, that striking V that leads down to his public hair, the cock that is now softening.

Those green eyes open, so, so bright. ‘Gorgeous,’ he breathes.

Daryl’s own breath hitches, he holds it while he comes silently over Benji’s groin.

The younger man smiles.

Silence rings out between them while Daryl catches his breath and Benji basks in the afterglow. The hunter takes his rag out of his back pocket and cleans himself. Then he throw in onto his friend, who catches it just as it slides down his torso. Daryl pulls his underwear back up, buttons his jeans and walks over to the large windows.

From there, he can oversee the entire warehouse. Most of the shelves are empty. Long aisle filled with nothing but dust and bones. In the back are still some useless supplies. Lawnmowers, rakes, there are washing machines and vacuum cleaners, light fixtures further down. Desks, cabinets, beds packaged in rotting cardboard boxes.

It’s one of the largest warehouses they have come across and, like all the others, it has been raided by someone else. They have found cans, water, even some candy bars in the houses they have passed on the way. They are hiding in bags, high up in trees marked by Daryl s signature. They will retrieve them on the way back.

By now, they know what they are looking for. Every night at the campfire, they discuss their options. A safe place, something which has high walls or is underground. They need enough room but it has to be small enough to defend. It needs vantage points and it needs to be invisible. They want it all.

They haven’t found any of it.

Benji groans as he puts his clothes on again. He paws at the microphone with a lazy grin. ‘Clean-up in the CEO’s office, please. Thank you.’

Daryl shakes his head with a small snort.

‘Here,’ the younger man pushes himself off the console. His boots thud on the floor. He grabs his water bottle from his pack and passes it to the hunter. ‘It’s an acquired taste,’ Benji smirks when his friend lifts a questioning eyebrow.

‘Reckon so,’ Daryl nods as he rinses his mouth and spits the water into a corner.

Benji laughs and pulls Daryl close by his belt, ‘hey,’ he says, ‘do you remember whether we got some pineapple juice in those bags? Did we find any?’

‘Nah, I don’t remember. Why?’

‘They used to say it makes your stuff taste better,’ Benji explains before kissing Daryl’s cheek. ‘Figured maybe I should start drinking that.’

‘Or maybe I’ll just get used to it.’

‘Maybe you will,’ Benji agrees, a little stunned and breathless. A hesitant smile creeps upon his face. He reaches up to brush Daryl’s longer hair out of his eyes. ‘I fucking love you.’

Daryl smirks and lets his hand travel over Benji’s belt, from the front to the back, then he caresses his ass before gripping it and pulling the younger man flush against his side. He kisses his forehead. ‘I know.’

 

‘Think we’ll need a land mower when we reach our Eden?’ Benji asks as he walks past the last shelves of the warehouse and sighs. ‘Somehow, I always imagined that the grass in Eden would always be green and never grow. It wouldn’t really be paradise if we still had to do _chores_ , now would it?’

‘No.’

‘Three rows back there was an ice cream machine. Reckon we’ll ever be able to make ice cream again? It really shouldn’t be that hard, right? It’s milk and sugar and vanilla, because I want vanilla ice cream, go figure, and what else? Eggs, probably. Cream? Oh my God, we would first need to find a cookbook or something because I don’t even know how to make it. It’s just a thing, right? Ice cream. Like bread. Who the fuck knows how to make _bread_?’

‘Carol probably knows.’

‘Thank God. That woman is a life-saver. We’re going to need coldness. Is that an ingredient?’ Benji throws the question over his shoulder when he walks over to a display down one of the aisles. With his sleeve he wipes it clean in order to read the text.

Daryl doesn’t follow him. There’s nothing but technology left in this place. Nothing that they need.

‘They had a power grit at Genesis,’ Benji says as he straightens again. ‘Did any of us work on it?’

‘Eugene.’

The younger man hums thoughtfully and then moves down the aisle. ‘What kind of ice cream was your favorite?’

‘Didn’t eat it much.’

‘Oh come on,’ Benji says. His voice ring in the almost empty warehouse. ‘You must have had a favorite ice cream flavor. Everyone has one. And you did tell me that your mom bought you ice cream once when you were a kid so you must know-‘

‘Cookie dough,’ Daryl tells him to shut the rant down. ‘I liked that cookie dough shit.’

Benji screws up his nose, ‘really? Gross.’

‘Why?’ the hunter asks as he leans against one of the many pillars. ‘The same reason why you don’t like the yoghurt? Because it has _bits_ in it?’

‘Exactly,’ Benji laughs. He hitches his bag higher and turns around, walking backwards. ‘I can’t believe you remembered that!’

‘Redneck trash but I ain’t stupid. Ya said it three weeks ago.’

‘It wasn’t even meant as a nicely-packaged insult, it’s just that I talk so much, it’s too much to remember for most people. But then again, you’re not most people.’

Daryl lights a cigarette. ‘Why?’

‘Most people are dead.’

‘Fair enough,’ the hunter concedes with a snort. ‘You done here? We still need to find a place to crash for the night.’

‘Why not stay here?’ Benji asks as he ducks into another row to inspect the items there. His backpack is weighed down by a stash of batteries they’d found when they had done their first round upon entering the warehouse. ‘It’s sheltered, dry and a little less like camping than actual camping.’

‘It’s also marked on every map and road sign. Others will come.’

‘We haven’t seen anyone in this area for over four days now.’

‘Just means that the odds of runnin’ into someone increase, right? Can’t go _five_ days without seeing anyone.’

‘Faulty logic,’ Benji chides as he wags his finger, ‘but fine, if it makes you feel better, we will camp outside again.’

Daryl grunts and squints at his friend. ‘Five days and we haven’t found anything.’

‘One more day further north,’ the younger man nods as he stops again at a shelve to wipe the display-card clean and read the information. ‘Then we’ll haul ass back to the others, drive midnight to midnight and we won’t be breaking our promise of seven days. That’s what you said.’

‘There’s no point.’

‘Maybe not,’ Benji says as he looks around the last corner before heading back over to the hunter. ‘But we made a game plan and we better stick to it. Besides, we did find some stuff, so the trip hasn’t been a complete waste.’

Daryl’s gaze travels over the younger man’s form, ‘no, it hasn’t.’

‘Stop checking me out,’ Benji laughs as he runs a hand through his hair. ‘Who’s distracting as fuck now? Back the way we came?’ He points at the front door and then at the back, ‘or go see whether there’s a secret backdoor leading to the only remaining Pizza Hut in the apocalypse?’

‘Pizza Hut,’ Daryl nods as he grabs his bow and loads it.

The younger man takes out his knife as he walks over to a door at the back which used to be an emergency exit. After a second to settle their nerves, he tries to open it. It’s stuck. Benji rolls his eyes, ‘anti-climactic, hang on.’ He grabs hold of the straps of his bag, adjusts his stance and then aims a high kick at the door. The door flies open. It smacks against the other side of the wall and bounces back.  Benji catches it easily and holds it open for his friend. ‘There you go.’

Daryl makes sure to brush past his friend, his front against Benji’s back in the narrow doorway, his hot breath teasing the younger man’s neck and ear for a split second. ‘That was fuckin’ hot,’ he murmurs and the tips of Benji’s ears grow red.

‘ _Distracting_ ,’ Benji moans as he grips his knife a little tighter.

The emergency exit leads to a fenced area which was used for extra storage space. There are piles of stones which used to pave people’s backyards, or form small paths to their front doors. Most of them are still covered by see-through plastic. The next row consists of water fountains, ready to be shipped to their respective owners.

There are garden sets, barbeques, statues benches, flagpoles.

‘Look at this,’ Benji rips a plastic cover open and points.

‘What the fuck is that?’ Daryl asks with a frown.

‘A mushroom! I mean, it’s a stool or something for kids or, like, to hold your drinks. Cute.’

‘Whatever.’

‘I meant cute as in; cute for Asskicker, bet she’d like it.’

‘Ain’t draggin’ that home.’

Benji rolls his eyes, ‘no, of course not. Just a thought.’

‘Walker.’

Benji’s head snaps up and his gaze immediately finds the walker Daryl is referring to. It’s a guy, limping towards them. He’s still wearing a blue set of overalls. He probably used to work in this place.

‘You got it?’ the younger man asks the hunter, who is closer. ‘Just the one?’

‘For now,’ Daryl nods as he grabs his knife and walks over to meet the walker half-way. ‘Keep your eyes ‘nd ears open.’

‘Always,’ Benji murmurs. He ducks into one of the rows and disappears from sight.

The walker goes down easy enough. It’s never hard when it’s only one. He could have shot it from a distance, but the sun is beating down on him and the knife was easier. They’re running low on food and water. He begins to feel it in his bones. The wooziness whenever he stands up too quickly, the heaviness of his limbs, his mood that keeps getting darker with every place they hit, only to discover that it’s unsuitable for their purpose.

 He’s beginning to lose faith. If he ever had it.

He looks around the area again and feels anger rise in his chest. Worthless, all of it. He thinks about having to drive back to that gas station, those damn cubicles, and have to face Rick and tell him that his children are going to starve there.

Fear and anger swirl into something else. He feels sick for a moment. There’s desperation in the wobbly step he takes to steady himself, but determination in the next one. He’s running by the time he reaches the fence that marks the area of the warehouse. Fingers tangle in the chain link. It rattles due to the sudden pressure.

He’s right out in the open but still feels locked in. He could climb over but there’s sweat running down his neck and it seems so high all of a sudden. He curses under his breath as he gazes up, a fence and an endless blue sky. The sun, beating them down, every single day.

‘Yo.’

Daryl leans against the fence and glances over his shoulder.

Benji swaggers over with a goofy smile on his face, ‘always wanted to say that. I was never the _yo_ kind of guy.’

‘Still ain’t.’

‘Come on, I pulled it off,’ Benji laughs. He brings his hand with the knife in it up to wipe sweat off his forehead.

Blood is dripping from the blade.

‘Walker?’ Daryl asks with a nod at the weapon, even though he doesn’t need to. It hasn’t been that long since he worried about that knife sliding over the younger man’s skin instead of into the heads of the undead, but it seems like decades ago. Time is a strange thing on the road. It’s both their enemy and ally. Enemy in the sense that it drags on and on, so slow and endless, turning their nights into years and hot afternoon into decades. Ally only because it passes at all, however slowly.

‘Yup, some guy had made one of those garden sheds his own. He looked like a squatter, but I guess we all do nowadays. I think he got bit; he had some painkillers and fever suppressants. Took those.’

‘He don’t need them no more.’

‘No, he doesn’t,’ Benji agrees. ‘Hey, come over to the other side. There’s something weird I need you to identify for me.’

Daryl frowns but follows his friend. They pass piles of sand, dirt, small stones and pebbles to decorate a garden with before they reach the other side of the fence. There’s a door welded into it. It’s open.

‘This is the way to the second building, remember there wasn’t a front door?’ Benji asks as they pass through the fence and enter a second, large, open space. There’s another small warehouse here. Unlike the other, it doesn’t seem to have a second floor.

Red letters are fading on the wall. _Precast_.

Daryl’s gaze sweeps over the area. There’s a truck parked on the other side, an abandoned forklift somewhere in the middle of the area. A large machine takes up one entire side of the fence. He can see conveyor belts, bins, hoppers and it slowly starts to dawn what this place is.

Benji walks over to the warehouse, ‘want to check inside?’

‘Hmm-hmm,’ he answers, only because they can’t afford to miss anything, not even a vending machine.

This time, the door opens easily. Benji cautiously enters first, tapping the blade of his knife on the doorframe and whistling to attract a walker’s attention. There’s no answering growl or groan. No shuffling feet, or ragged breath. It’s completely silent inside.

Their footsteps echo loudly as they walk in.

‘Sparsely decorated,’ Benji notes, ‘how every 21st century of them.’

Daryl doesn’t answer. He passes the desk of the reception and walks into the warehouse.

‘What are they?’ the younger man asks curiously as he follows the hunter. He runs his hand over an object made of steel.

‘They’re concrete molds,’ Daryl answers as he leans over one, peering in and patting the side. ‘It’s a precast plant,’ he continues when Benji just looks at him with raised eyebrows. ‘They cast concrete in these things, let it harden, remove the mold.’

‘What did they make?’

‘Looks like pieces of a sewage system,’ Daryl says as he inspects the object. It’s a big block, with half a circle cut out on the side. ‘Put two pieces together and ya got yourself a pipeline. Reckon that weren’t their main business, though. Those fountains and dumb ornaments back at the other warehouse? Came from this place.’

‘So these are, like, casts, and they made pipeline with it?’

Daryl shrugs, ‘yeah.’ He gestures to a corner of the warehouse where a bunch of steel has been piled up. ‘Maybe they were thinkin’ about jumpin’ branches. Don’t need reinforced concrete for fuckin’ fountains.’

‘Yeah, maybe,’ Benji says dismissively, ‘but those casts. They’re made of steel?’

‘Ya blind?’ Daryl asks as he aims a kick at one of the molds, ‘yeah, they’re made of steel.’

‘But how do you make them?’

Daryl rolls his eyes and looks down at his front. ‘Am I wearin’ goddamn overalls? Do I work here?’

‘Come on,’ Benji urges, ‘how do they make the molds?’

‘How do you think? Ya bend the steel your way and ya fuckin’ weld it together. Use that ginormous brain of yours.’

‘I am,’ Benji says as he stares at the molds. ‘How do you make concrete?’

‘Jesus fuckin’ Christ,’ Daryl mutters as he stalks off towards a small office and staff room.

‘I’m serious,’ the younger man calls out after him. ‘How do you make it?’

Daryl groans. ‘Everyone and their mother knows that. One cement, two sand, three gravel. Add water until it fuckin’ look a’right.’

‘Thanks. Me and my mother didn’t know that.’

‘Your mom’s dead,’ Daryl points out, ‘but you don’t have an excuse.’

‘City boy,’ Benji grins as he wanders about the warehouse, ‘that’s my excuse.’

Daryl smirks as he enters the staffroom. There is, indeed, a vending machine there. It’s still full. He checks it out, notices the candy bars there and thinks of Carl and Michonne and their endless desire for the things. There are Big Cat bars in there. He pulls the strap of his bow over his head and gets ready to bust in the glass.

‘Anything?’ Benji asks as he enters just when the hunter swings his bow and breaks the glass. He winces at the sound and walks over to the small office.

Daryl carefully clears the last shards of glass before reaching in and grabbing the bars. He stuffs them all in his bag. Chips, some granola bar, but most are chocolate bars from various brands. He’s glad that the company hadn’t gone along with the whole healthy eating streak that had been consuming the country just before the outbreak. He doesn’t reckon apples and banana’s would have kept for over a year.

It takes him a couple of minutes and then he swings his backpack back on. He follows the footsteps of his friend and finds the younger man on top of a desk in the small office. He sits Indian-style on the top with a book in his lap. He pours over the pages like they hold the cure for the apocalypse.

‘Are ya serious?’ Daryl grouses as he wipes sweat off his brow. ‘Book club is over, come on. Let’s get movin’.’

‘One moment.’

The hunter scoffs but waits. He yanks the drawers of the desk open but there’s nothing but useless office supplies. Then he turns to a cabinet behind it. Degrees are proudly displayed and now covered in dust. Certificates of excellence mixed with personal diploma’s. He doesn’t read the name of the man who ran the company but bows down to go through the drawers.

The bottom one holds an expensive bottle of whiskey. It’s still sealed. There’s a small card tied to the neck with a scribbled message that says ‘congratulations, we look forward to working with you and your company! – Jeremy Ferrish.’

‘Look at this,’ Daryl leers as he pulls the bottle out and holds it up for inspection. ‘’s some good shit, right here.’

‘Hmm?’ Benji glances over, one finger marking the page, ‘oh, yeah. Great.’

‘What’re ya readin’?’

‘Nothing,’ Benji tosses the book aside and slides off the desk again, hitting the concrete with a heavy thud. ‘Let’s get out of here. Like you said; we still need to find a place for the night.’

‘A’right,’ Daryl pushes Benji’s shoulder to make him turn around and stuff the bottle into the younger man’s backpack. He doesn’t complain about the weight.

Together they make their way outside, through the fence and back to the warehouse. Their footfalls echo through the nearly-empty building. The bike is parked between two cars in the parking lot. Hiding in plain sight, Benji had argued and Daryl had begrudgingly agreed. His bike is too well taken care of for it to have stood there since the outbreak, but they haven’t seen anyone in days.

Before they leave they check the tanks of the cars. Most of the fuel has gone bad but Daryl manages to syphon some from a pick-up at the end of the lot. There’s a walker trapped inside of it. He leaves it be. Dull nails scratch at the glass, rotting teeth scraping over it as it tries to bite through the glass, too dumb to understand the barrier between them.

Daryl flips it off as he walks back and fills up his bike.

Benji tightens the straps of his bag and nods at Daryl, who passes him his bow. He throws the strap over his head and lets it rest against his bag carefully. ‘Good to go,’ he nods.

The hunter climbs onto his bike and takes the map out of his jeans pocket, studying the roads before deciding on a course.

‘Hey,’ his friend says as he wants to put it away again. ‘Mark this place.’ He holds out a pencil.

‘Why? Ain’t nothing here.’

‘Just mark it.’

‘Whatever.’ Daryl circles their location and then crosses it out to show that they’ve hit it.

‘Where’s the gas station again?’ Benji asks as he leans on Daryl’s shoulder in order to be able to look at the map too.

‘Right here.’

‘Hmm. Which way are we going?’

‘Startin’ to loop back,’ Daryl murmurs as he lets the pencil glide over the road he wants to take. ‘We’ll make it up to here,’ he taps the spot, ‘and then haul ass back tomorrow night.’

‘That road was blocked, right?’ Benji asks as he points a little further down the way.

‘Yeah, we’ll cut through here,’ Daryl dismisses. ‘Hop on.’

Benji gets on easily, the movement now so natural that he doesn’t even need to shift and look down to find the pegs for his feet. His arms loop around the hunter’s belly, squeezing it once to signal that he’s good to go.

Daryl puts his bandana over his nose and mouth and revs the engine before tearing out of the parking lot and turning right to head back to the open road. He feels Benji’s hold slacken in trust, the weight of a head coming to rest between his shoulder blades. He lets go of one of the handlebars to put his hand over Benji’s, squeezing it for a brief second.

With the sun beating down on them and the wind rushing by, it almost feels like any other day. The open road ahead, too much white noise to be thinking about anything other than just driving. He wishes it could go on forever; them, just the way they are. That strange thing they got going on, one of the most natural things he’s ever done but so foreign that he’s still surprised to find Benji next to him when he wakes up every morning.

But he’s still there. And so is Daryl. Against all odds.

The closest thing they’re ever going to be to perfectly happy.


	11. Five easy steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... have all the smut.  
>  You're welcome. (Or; I'm sorry, depending.)
> 
> The end of this story is very, very near.  
> One or two more chapters after this.

 

* * *

 

 

‘Stop, stop, _stop_!’

Daryl grips the brakes and feels the machine tremble and slip slightly, but he manages to grind to a halt. He glares at the younger man over his shoulder, ‘what the hell?’

Benji shifts in his seat, grabbing hold of the hunter’s strong shoulder to remain balanced. ‘That road,’ he points somewhere behind them, ‘where does that go?’

‘Ain’t no road there,’ Daryl snaps back, heart still beating in his throat and ears from the sudden adrenaline rush. ‘Jesus Christ, I thought…’ He yanks the bandana down to speak more clearly, ‘thought something was wrong, man!’

‘What?’ Benji asks distractedly. ‘Oh, no, sorry, just… Wait.’ He leans on Daryl’s shoulder as he climbs off the bike. ‘Here, hold this.’ He transfers the bow back to the hunter and starts to walk back to whatever it is he thought he saw.

‘We’re out in the open! Get your ass back on here!’

‘It’s a back road in the middle of nothing and nowhere,’ Benji dismisses with a little wave. ‘We haven’t seen anything or anyone for miles and miles. I’ll just be a second. And I need to pee.’

‘Ya had me put the brakes on because ya had to fuckin’ _pee_?’ Daryl hisses.

‘No, I saw a road there, I told you. And yeah, kinda, sorry, not sorry.’

‘You’re killin’ me,’ Daryl moans as he slumps over his handlebars. ‘Just pee here, nothin’ I haven’t seen before.’

‘I can’t do it with you watching me,’ Benji shouts back, laughter in his voice. ‘Two seconds!’

‘One, two,’ Daryl counts childishly while he stares out over the open road. It’s their last day before heading back over to the gas station, where their family is waiting for them. They had stayed the night out in the woods after they ran in a herd down the road by the warehouses. After high-tailing it out of there, neither had felt like going into a denser populated area and try to find a house to rest their heads. Benji’s aversion to camping had flared for only a second before he saw reason.

Now they’re both cranky. They’re running low on food for themselves. They tried to save most of what they’ve found for the others, who will need it more once they come back. The fact that they’ve moved around all the time hasn’t given Daryl any opportunity to hunt. Even shooting a rabbit will take him an hour or more, if he’s lucky, and he hasn’t had the time.

They’ve had a couple of close-calls over the past few days. Walkers lurking inside stores and houses, stumbling across their little campsite in the night. They’ve been lucky enough that they were on the bike the only time they came across a herd.

Despite the desperate circumstance, he can’t deny that he’s glad they took the trip. They’ve found some provisions, sure, but he’s also got to spend time with the other man without anyone watching. At first he’d felt a little nervous, unsure of what Benji was expecting now that his family wasn’t around, but they soon settled in an easy routine.

They make a great team. Benji might not like camping but he’s good at making due. Building fires and filtering water has become his second nature now and Daryl’s never afraid to close his eyes when he knows that the silver-haired man is watching over him, knife sharp and ready.

They’ve talked a lot. Mostly about stupid things. After the first day, they picked their old games back up. Favorite past times, television shows, dishes, teachers, family members, musical instruments. He knows more about the other guy than he ever thought possible. And he doesn’t think that he’s told anyone so many details about his own life and thoughts, either.

Benji knows how he got the biggest scar on his shoulder blade, where he’d liked to hang out when he was just a kid, how he got lost in the woods at all, what gift he’d made his mother for mother’s day when he was seven. How many times he’d visited her grave.

They’ve talked about more pressing and, maybe, important matters too. Why Daryl doesn’t like to touch the other man when the rest of his family is around, even though he knows that they don’t care. About why that sometimes drives Benji up the wall, even though he knows that Daryl loves him.

Before the outbreak, Daryl had always heard people preaching about how communication is key in any relationship. He’d scoffed at that. Partly because he’d never been in any relationship that was long enough to require that kind of communication, and partly because he’d thought it would be easy to be in a relationship. Two people, together, what could be fucking difficult about that? Only now does he know that they were right after all.

‘ _Daryl_!’ Running footsteps has the hunter twisting awkwardly in his seat, heart hammering in his throat once more. He groans when Benji comes running at him with a big smile on his face. ‘Daryl! Come check this out!’

‘For the love of God,’ the hunter exclaims, ‘you’ll be the fuckin’ death of me.’

‘You know what they sometimes described as death? Having an orgasm. La petite mort. French.’ Benji says as he reaches his friend. ‘Stop distracting me. Come.’ He shuts his eyes and groans, ‘stop, brain. Seriously though, I’ve found something!’

‘Found what? A good pace to pee?’

‘The fucking best,’ Benji nods. ‘Come on, we can hide the bike in the bushes over there.’

‘Why?’

‘We need to hike a little bit.’

‘You _hiked_ to fucking _pee_?’

‘No! I told you; there’s a road there. Like, a trail! I think it’s a bit too wobbly for the bike, but it looks like a trail or something for horses? I figured; where the fuck are horses going in this place? There’s nothing here! So come on, I’ve got to show you something.’

‘Gonna show me the place horses go or the place you peed?’

Benji laughs as he helps Daryl push the bike off the road and behind a few bushes. ‘I don’t see why that can’t be the same thing.’

Daryl snorts and allows the younger man to lead him back down the road. There is, indeed, a trail there. It’s small enough that he had missed it and he raises his eyebrows in surprise. His friend laughs and extends his hand to him. He shakes it automatically.

‘Benji,’ his friend says, as if introducing himself all over again, ‘first of his name, hunter extraordinaire, finder of trails. You’re welcome.’

‘Shut up.’

‘Fine. Come on, this way,’ Benji smiles as he ducks under a branch and starts to head into the forest.

The trail leads them up a hill. The woods grow thicker around them. Shadows swallow them as they walk. There are sparse spots of sunlight, but the sun is mostly hidden by green leaves and thick branches. Birds sing around them, flitting about the trees and squirrels scurry away when they approach. These are good hunting grounds, Daryl thinks as he lets his gaze wander over the soft earth. There aren’t any tracks except for those made by animals and the single set of Benji’s heavy army boots going up and then back down again.

‘Here we go.’

The woods suddenly stop at a sharp ridge. There’s a valley down below, bathing in sunlight.

Daryl stares. He grabs the strap of his crossbow and holds on tightly. He swallows thickly.

‘It’s a farm.’

The hunter looks at his friend, who beams back at him. Silver-hair and green eyes sparkling in the sunlight, skin bronzed by summer and shimmering with sweat. The scar is vivid, cutting his face almost in half, but now so integrated in his looks that Daryl barely sees it. The white teeth against those pink lips, wet when he runs his tongue over them while he waits for a reaction.

‘It’s a _farm_ ,’ the younger man repeats excitedly, ‘how fucking perfect is that? It’s deserted. Look at it! It’s got the ridge on one side so that’s got natural defenses and we could rig up a fence with the concrete stuff from that place down at-‘

Daryl grabs hold of Benji’s jaw and crushes their mouth together.

Dry lips against wet ones, the heat of summer mingling with their body heat. His hand in the hair at Benji’s nape, slick with sweat and that hair product he prefers. The younger man moans and puts his hands on Daryl’s hips, yanking him close and grinding their hips together. He shrugs off his backpack, letting it fall to the ground before shoving Daryl’s pack off too. He kicks it aside blindly.

‘Could be infested with walkers,’ Daryl breathes when they part.

‘Could be a million of them,’ Benji agrees. He puts his hands on the broad chest of his man and pushes him backwards, hard. The hunter stumbles back. His back hits a tree. ‘And I’ll cut them all down if it means your family has a safe place to be.’

Daryl grabs hold of Benji’s belt and drags him close again, chest against chest. ‘ _Our_ family,’ he corrects huskily. ‘Ya said it; they’re yours too. ’

Benji pushes his friend up against the tree, rolling his hips, ‘you really do listen when I ramble, huh?’ He mouths at that strong jawline, shoving his hand under the hunter’s shirt and letting his fingernails scrape over the muscles.

‘Yeah,’ Daryl tilts his head back. His breath hitches when Benji licks a beat of sweat from his neck. ‘Fuck, man.’ He lets his hand round onto the younger man’s back, feeling the muscles shift there, and then lower. Fingertips touch denim, he hesitates for a second, and then dips his hand under the waistband, letting it smooth over Benji’s ass.

Benji claims his lips, dominating the kiss as the hunter melts into the tree. ‘Fuck, yeah,’ he growls in between kisses when Daryl’s grip tightens.

The nerves in his spine tingle when Daryl paws at that firm ass while submitting to his friend, opening his mouth to let that clever tongue in, grunting when the man rolls his hips and presses their erections together. His mind is drowning in lust, body temperature rocketing and his blood rushing south.

His hand slides between Benji’s ass-cheeks, making the man arch against him, lips hovering over lips as they gaze at each other. Pupils blown wide, mouths open and lips wet. Daryl’s middle finger runs down the crack until it touches Benji’s entrance.

‘Fuck,’ the younger man moans against the hunter’s lips. He makes quick work of Daryl’s shirt buttons, then undoes his belt buckle, frantically opening his jeans and shoving them down.

Daryl kisses him as his free hand rounds on Benji’s thigh, lifting it up so his right hand has more room. He lets his finger run over that ring of muscles, feeling how it tightens and relaxes. He groans into his friend’s mouth.

‘Yeah?’ Benji grins when they part for a second, his breath hot on Daryl’s face. ‘You want that?’

Daryl bites at that teasing smile. He blushes and hopes that he’s flushed enough so his friend won’t notice.

‘You want that?’ Benji asks again, pushing at Daryl’s chest to get him to focus, ‘hmm? You want to fuck me?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Tell me how badly.’

Daryl swallows, gaze shifting from those wet lips to green eyes dark with desire and lust. He opens his mouth and closes it again. ‘Fuck,’ he breathes, letting his head thud back against the tree.

‘Yes, but how badly?’ Benji grins. ‘Oh wait, I can tell how bad you want it, just let me…’ He slides his hand into Daryl’s boxers, wrapping it around his hard cock. ‘Aah, I see, I see. That’s how it is?’

Daryl rubs his friend’s thigh and nods.

‘You’re so hot, goddamn,’ Benji murmurs into his skin, ‘but we’re going to need some lube if you want that now. It’s in my bag, you want me to grab it?’

Daryl tries to think but his mind is lost in a haze caused by Benji jerking him off and the mere thought of fucking his friend, taking him fully. He doesn’t want him to move away though. His finger circles the entrance again before pressing lightly against it.

‘Okay, lube it is. Just let me-‘

A growl sounds from just behind Daryl.

‘Holy mother of God,’ Benji takes a stumbling step back as Daryl yanks his hand away. The younger man grabs his arm and hauls him away from the tree, shoving him behind him.

‘Fuckin’ hell,’ Daryl curses as he quickly pulls up his jeans and looks up. The walker is not nearly as close as it had sounded. It’s slowly making its way towards them. One of its arms is missing, parts of the skull too, leaving the brain partly exposed. Flies buzz around it.

‘Unbelievable,’ Benji groans when he pulls his knife out and heads over to meet the thing halfway. ‘This is fucking _unbelievable_ ,’ he repeats when he draws the blade into the soft brain tissue. ‘I’m getting cock blocked at every single turn! We’re out in the middle of nowhere, no Rick to stalk over or Michonne to try and sneak a peek and now there’s a walker wanting in on the damn action. Thanks, you stupid fuck!’ He aims a kick at the walker’s chest. ‘Shit, I shouldn’t have done that. Sorry.’

Daryl shakes his head and leans against the tree again. His breathing and heartrate slowly return to normal. ‘It’s dead. He can’t hear ya.’

‘Rest in peace,’ Benji spats before stalking back towards their spot. ‘Okay… where were we?’

Daryl scoffs. ‘Thought I was getting’ eaten, kinda ruined my mood.’

‘Yeah,’ Benji looks down at his own crotch, ‘mine too, that was just my mind being eternally hopeful. Damn. Next time we’re doing that, we’re going to be in a fucking locked room with lube in my back pocket, okay?’

‘Okay.’

‘Let’s check the place out.’

They grab their gear and walk back to the ridge. Shoulder to shoulder, they stand there for a long time.

‘Want to go down? See inside?’ Benji asks the hunter.

‘It’s deserted. There used to be a road there,’ Daryl gestures to one side of the farm, ‘but it’s overgrown. There are no tracks anymore. There’s no car at the property. The windows are boarded up. You were right; it’s abandoned.’

Benji chews on his lower lip. ‘What if it’s not as perfect as it seems? The floorboards could be rotten, I mean… it might not be safe.’

Daryl hitches his bow higher. He casts one last look at the building before he heads back down the hill to where the bike is waiting for him. He glances over his shoulder at Benji. ‘Four walls ‘nd a roof. ‘s all we need. We’ll make it work.’

‘Yeah, hey! Where are you going?’

‘Back to the bike, good thing we started loopin’ back yesterday, saved us a bunch of time. We’ll leave tomorrow morning and be back with the others after noon.’

‘Yeah,’ Benji says slowly as he start to follow the hunter down. ‘But we still have this afternoon and evening, so… We’re going to hit some more places before going back?’

‘We checked them all out on the way up here. Ain’t no place left.’

‘Okay, so we’re heading back right now?’

‘Are ya even listenin’?’ Daryl throws over his shoulder, ‘I said; we leave tomorrow morning.’

‘Yeah and did you listen when I asked you where you were going? The bike, okay, but after that?’

Daryl shrugs, ‘remember that motel, half-way here?’

‘Yeah.’

‘It’s got a door that locks.’

Benji stops walking.

Daryl turns to look at him with one raise eyebrow.

‘Holy shit,’ Benji dumps his backpack on the ground and rummages through it. He slips a small bottle into his back pocket. ‘Okay, I’m _so_ ready. Let’s go, hurry up.’

The hunter laughs and shakes his head when the younger man joins him. ‘Eager, huh?’

‘Yup,’ Benji grabs Daryl’s left hand and uses it to drape the hunter’s arm over his shoulders, entwining their fingers. ‘Do you need a quick tutorial? How to have gay sex in five easy steps?’

‘Really think I fuckin’ might,’ Daryl grins as he draws the other man into his side. ‘What’s step one?’

‘Get him horny as fuck,’ Benji slips his hand into Daryl’s back pocket. ‘Check that one right off. It’s hours back to that motel, Jesus. Who knew you were such a tease, Dixon.’

The hunter laughs before he kisses the younger man’s temple.

 

 

‘Oh my god, Jesus, yes, c’mon. Oh, _auch_!’

Daryl stills immediately. His breathing is erratic, head fuzzy with lust but the words cause the blood in his veins to chill. ‘What?’ he pants, ‘am I hurtin’ ya?’

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ Benji moans, one hand clawing at the bedsheets. ‘Yes! Of course it fucking hurts, you idiot. Jesus Christ. Ah, what are you doing, stop moving, dammit!’

‘I’m pulling out,’ Daryl grunts, ‘I’m sorry, I – I didn’t mean, fuck.’

‘Stay still,’ Benji hisses over his shoulder. ‘Of course it hurts! You think you can just stick… _fuck_ ,’ he groans again, spine arching before he calms himself by taking a couple of deep breaths. ‘This is going to take time, okay? I don’t know how it was with your million girlfriends, but the first time isn’t going to be pretty, okay?’

‘Never had a million…’

Benji laughs, ‘your dick up my ass and I can still rile you up. You are so easy, Daryl Dixon. Fuck me. No! Not really, wait! Pull out, _slowly_.’

 Daryl does as he’s told, slowly moving his hips back and groaning at the loss of sensation. He rubs Benji’s lower back, soothing the clenching muscles there, trying to get rid of the tension. The younger man flops over onto his back and looks up at the hunter.

‘Hey, gorgeous.’

Daryl leans over him, kissing his neck, ‘didn’t mean to hurt ya.’

‘I wouldn’t be having sex with you if you did,’ Benji murmurs. ‘Grab the lube.’

‘More?’ Daryl asks with a frown as he reaches for the bottle again.

‘More,’ Benji nods. He pulls one leg up and then tugs his friend closer again, ‘it’s not my fault you’re hung like a-‘ he laughs as Daryl growls against his neck. ‘Put it on my fingers, lemme reach, fuck. Okay, try again.’

‘Sure?’

‘This isn’t the time to play hard to get, okay?’ The younger man laughs, letting his head fall back into the pillow for a second. ‘Yeah, I’m sure. Just go slow and steady, come on.’ He rubs a hand over Daryl’s shoulder. ‘That’s it,’ he breathes when the hunter lines up and slowly pushes in.

Daryl watches how Benji bites his lip and moans low in his throat. His eyes are scrunched up, fingers digging into his own skin, not quite pulling or pushing. ‘Fuck, you’re hurtin’. Lemme…’ He prepares to pull out again but Benji breathes out.

‘Stop fucking saying that I’m hurting, _fuck_ ,’ he moans, ‘kiss me.’

‘What?’

‘Get down here and fucking kiss me!’

Daryl automatically swoops in to claim those pale lips. He groans at the sensation of the other man’s tongue against his, bites down on an upper lip, licks teeth before crashing their mouths together again. He can feel the younger man’s body relax beneath him. A moan is stolen from his mouth, swallowed down and kissed back, hungry and wet with lust.

‘Yeah, like that,’ Benji grins as he grabs one of Daryl’s hands and places it on his chest. ‘Like that.’

Daryl runs his hand over the pale skin, following muscles and scars up to his nipple. He dips to bite at Benji’s neck, teeth scraping over the sensitive skin just as his thumb rubs over a nipple. Benji moans, hips rocking up which causes Daryl to groan and rut against him, pushing in deeper.

‘You’re so tight,’ he breathes into the pale skin of Benji’s neck. ‘So hot… Fuck.’ He rocks his hips. He nearly pulls out and then pushes back in, groaning low in his throat. ‘Talk to me.’

Benji laughs into his ear, kisses the side of his face, ‘see? You like hearing me talk. Like that, yes, God, you’re good. So good.’ He licks Daryl’s neck, up to his ear, ‘harder.’

Daryl grunts. There’s sweat smoothing down his hair, running down his neck and his back. His fingers flex against the pale skin as he bucks his hips. The sound of flesh against flesh fills his ears, together with his panting and Benji’s smothered groans against his chest.

‘So fucking gorgeous,’ Benji says, running a hand up Daryl’s neck, into his hair. He runs a thumb over the lips, dipping it into the hot mouth and Daryl sucks on it, hard. ‘Look at you. So hot. Come on, fuck me, like that, yeah. So good.’ He curls his leg around Daryl’s hips, shifting slightly to get a better angle. ‘Ah yes, yes God. You’re so beautiful, fucking strong,’ He reaches down and grabs at Daryl’s chest, feeling the muscle twitch and heart pound. ‘You like it, huh? Tell me how it feels.’

Daryl’s breathing hard, grunting as he pushes home, ‘hot, _tight_. Goddamn, Benji. Fuck. Mine, you’re fucking _mine_.’

‘Yeah,’ Benji breathes, ‘yeah I am. I am, Daryl. Fuckin’ yours.’

‘Gonna come,’ Daryl warns, ‘you’re gonna make me come.’

‘Yeah, go on, come inside me. You feel good. So good, come on,’ Benji urges just as Daryl groans and stills, whole body tensing before he collapses onto his friend. His face in the pale neck, nose nuzzling the grey hair he loves so much. They’re silent as Daryl catches his breath, muscle twitching with small aftershocks. Benji lazily strokes his back, from his neck down to his ass and up again.

With a groan, Daryl rolls himself off his friend so not to squash him. He stretches and buries his face in the matrass. ‘Thanks,’ he murmurs.

‘Any time,’ Benji says with a smile. His hand glides over his chest, to his abs and then down to curl a hand around himself.

Daryl shifts so he can see his friend, frowning slightly and then groaning in what sounds like mortification. ‘I’m fuckin’ sorry.’

‘Selfish bastard. You got all of me and I get my own hand? We’re gonna need a bit more practice before we cross that finish line together.’

The redneck snorts and scoots closer again. His right hand finds Benji’s chest, rubbing circles into the skin, fingernails teasing his nipples. ‘Did it hurt? I’m sorry, man, I told you; don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’. We should have stopped.’

‘And miss that face you made at the end? I don’t think so,’ he smirks. ‘It always hurts the first time in a long while, okay? No big deal, I can handle it. Next time will be even better, for both of us. Not that this wasn’t amazing, my God just look at you. I’m so hard. God,’ Benji groans. ‘But next time is going to be even better. And longer too.’

Daryl makes a move to bite at his ear, growling low in his belly, ‘sayin’ I shot off early?’

‘Seeing as I’m pumping my own hand here, yeah, you did.’

‘’s a compliment,’ the hunter tells him with a grin. ‘You’re just too goddamn good.’ He stretches out on to his back again. With a lazy hand he swats at the silver head, ‘come on,’ he pats his own lap, ‘get up here so I can reach.’

Benji grins and throws his leg over, sitting down on the hunter’s belly. His gaze roams over the strong body beneath him.

Daryl brushes his hair out of his eyes and then lets his hands drop to the thighs of his friend, rubbing the warm skin. ‘Look at ya,’ he leers, licking his lips, ‘fuckin’ beautiful.’ One hand travels up to cover a nipple while the other goes down to replace Benji’s hand around his dick.

He groans, closing his eyes for a second and rocking his hips at the touch. ‘Fuck yeah. Tighter.’

Daryl tightens his grip and smirks lazily, pumping his hand up and down. ‘Like that?’

‘Yeah,’ Benji breathes, ‘fuck, like that, don’t stop.’

‘Open ya eyes.’

Green eyes are turned dark by lust.

‘Gorgeous,’ Daryl says. ‘Look at ya, want it bad, huh? Come on, tell me how bad you want it.’ He twists his hand, thumb rubbing over a vein, fingers slickening with pre-come.

Benji grabs his shoulder, nails digging into the skin as he leans on the hunter, panting. His cheeks flush with a blush. ‘Fucking tease.’

‘Nu-uh,’ the hunter chides, ‘play nice now. What’s all this, hmm?’ He reaches up with his free hand and taps the younger man’s cheek, ‘blushing like a virgin when I had my dick in ya not two seconds ago. Were moaning for it, weren’t ya? Ridin’ it like a goddamn pro, so sweet, so tight, so hungry for my dick, huh? Next time, I’m gonna make you beg for it.’

Benji makes a biting move at the hand, growling playfully.

Daryl grins and lets the hand drop into their laps, reaching down to cup the other man’s balls. He tugs lightly, earning a loud moan. ‘Love that, huh?’ He let’s go for a second, spitting on the palm of his hand before continuing.

‘We got lube,’ Benji reminds him.

‘Don’t need it now,’ Daryl murmurs. ‘You’re drippin’, fuckin’ leakin’ on me, ain’t that right, babe? Fuckin’ gorgeous. Look at ya. Hot as sin.’

‘I’m fucking close,’ he groans before leaning down to get a quick and dirty kiss. ‘Don’t stop talking.’

‘Talk about what?’ the hunter asks, twisting his hand roughly and watching how Benji’s hips stutter as reward. ‘How I’m going to lick you open next time? You’d like that? My tongue all over you, all up _in_ you? How I’m going to fuck you, all night long? Gonna pound that sweet ass so hard you’re gonna beg for it. Put those damn lessons to some good use, eh? Gonna suck ya good, lick you open until you’re so hungry for it, hmm? Let ya ride my fuckin’ cock until ya…’

Benji comes with a groan, biting at his own arm in a faint attempt to keep quiet. His hips jerk, muscles in his belly clenching and rippling beneath the skin, fingernails digging deep into Daryl’s shoulder, leaving the promises of bruises.

‘Come all over me,’ Daryl smirks as he sits up, leaning on his elbows. His gaze travels over his own chest. Streaks of white come on the sun-kissed skin. Benji breathes through his nose as he pumps a couple more times, draining himself before he needs to let go of the sensitive flesh.

He laughs, shaking the gray hair out of his eyes. His shoulders relax as he reaches down, his index finger trailing over his own cum, scooping some up and moving it to Daryl’s lips.

The hunter licks the finger clean.

‘ _Fuck_ ,’ Benji breathes at the sight. With a groan, he lets himself fall off his friend, landing in a messy pile besides him. ‘That was fucking good.’

Daryl reaches out to find his shirt. He uses it to wipe his chest clean. ‘come here,’ he murmurs, pulling his friend closer and draping an arm over his shoulders as Benji settles against his chest. Their legs intertwine.

‘Daryl Dixon, bad ass art geek and now a cudler too.’

‘Yeah, well,’ Daryl reaches out to the nightstand to grab a cigarette and lighter. ‘Ya’d rather have me kick you out of bed, then? Thanks for the sex, now fuck off.’

Benji grins into his skin, ‘no. Seven minutes.’

The fire catches the tobacco. Daryl inhales sharply, body relaxing into the softness of the cushions and embrace. One hand strokes Benji’s back. ‘Shut up and go to sleep,’ he murmurs into the gray hair, kissing the top of his head.

‘Farm, sex, pillow talk,’ Benji answers softly.

‘What?’

‘Farm, sex and pillow talk,’ his friend repeats. ‘Our dog, barbeque and fourth of July.’

Daryl laughs softly, flicking the ash onto the floor. ‘Amen.’ Then he flicks Benji’s ear, ‘ya good, though? Seriously?’

Benji stretches. The muscles in his back shift, bulge a bit as he grinds his hips down into the matrass before sighing contently. ‘Yeah. All good, seriously. It wasn’t, like, unbearable pain, fuck no, just, _auch_ , you know? And besides, when did things ever go easy between us two? Perfect first-time-lovers are for porn, this is the apocalypse. It won’t hurt when we do it tomorrow.’

‘What?’

‘You’re ancient, you need a good night sleep to restore and everything, I get it,’ Benji laughs, ‘but I’m twenty six, in my prime. And you promised to at least suck me off. Jesus, for someone who never says anything, you sure got a dirty mouth on you.’

‘You were twenty six last summer, turned twenty seven,’ Daryl says, deciding to focus on things that don’t make his cock twitch. ‘You got Rick to wish you a happy birthday.’

Green eyes peek up at him. ‘Did no-one tell you the world ended? No one remembers what day it is, what month even. It doesn’t count if you don’t know the real date. So I’ll be twenty six. Forever and ever and ever and always. You can’t possibly complain. Got a young god to warm your bed,’ he grins into Daryl’s shoulder, throwing a leg over his hips to snuggle closer.

‘Hell, I ain’t complainin’.’

Benji closes his eyes while Daryl smokes his cigarette. ‘Want to play a game?’

‘Too late for strip poker.’

‘Shame. No, come on, it’s called; ask me anything. I don’t need to explain it, do I? We used to have these cards to go with it, I used to play it with friends in college, but also with my family back home. Different sets of card, of course,’ Benji grins and kisses Daryl’s shoulder.  

‘Fine. You start,’ Daryl murmurs as he plucks a bit of tobacco from his lower lip.

‘Hmm. Favorite mistake you ever made?’

Daryl flicks some ash onto the floor, ‘was a while ago, we’d been on the road for a while, just hangin’ in there. Tough times. Hadn’t had a decent meal in days, hardly any water. We hit a town, Glenn told me I should check out a library on my own. I said yes.’

Benji’s eyes crack open, ‘that was a mistake?’

‘My favorite one,’ the hunter nods. ‘Almost got us both killed with my stubborn ass, though.’

His friend snorts, ‘there were only three walkers, I had that pretty ass covered the moment I laid eyes on it.’

Daryl flicks his ear but smiles.

‘Good one though,’ Benji murmurs. ‘Your turn.’

There’s a long silence. Daryl ends the cigarette on the nightstand and throws the butt towards the window. It thuds against the glass and falls onto the floor. ‘Name something you want but will never have.’

‘Kids,’ Benji answers promptly. ‘My own kids, you know? I mean, we look after the little one all the time, and that’s great, but to have your own? That would be amazing, I think.’

Daryl stiffens, his hand freezes where it had been drawing lazy circles onto Benji’s shoulder.

The younger man doesn’t seem to notice his sudden discomfort. He yawns. ‘A pack of blue-eyed mini hunters with running mouths, damn, they’d rule this land in a fucking heartbeat. Holy shit,’ he laughs, ‘can you even imagine what a blend of our DNA could produce? I have a feeling it would either be magical or, like, _disastrous_. A sarcastic, glaring, little know-it-all who talks too much and teaches himself how to smoke when they’re, like, three year old. Sometimes I see you with Judith, and I’m just; _uugh_ , you know, like, _want_? But other times I’m all: Rick, please take your daughter and deal with the unpleasant bits of parenting, thank you, bring her back when she’s all smiles and giggles instead of tantrums and screaming.’

Daryl stares down at his friend, ‘you’d want a kid with my DNA?’

‘What? Yeah, of course, who the fuck else would I want a kid with? A mini Dixon. Fuck yeah, sign me up. Bet you were the cutest baby ever. And you know what? I never cried when I was a baby. My mom forgot about me all the damn time because I was so quiet. Left me out in the back garden one time for a whole afternoon while she was having tea with my grandmother. Just forgot about me, but when she rushed out later, I was all smiles. Made up for that when I was a teenager, though. I was one angsty son of a bitch. Were you a terrible teen?’

‘A kid,’ Daryl repeats, ‘with _my_ DNA?’

Benji sits up slightly, ‘did I break your brain with that information? You’re on repeat.’

‘No, I just.. I never thought… never mind. Yeah, I was a terrible teen, just not the emo kind. The high as kite and skipping school sort.’

‘So while I was wailing that my parents would never understand my teenage hardships, you were… what? Smoking pot?’

‘Pretty much.’

Benji bites his lip, ‘did you ever want to have kids? This is not my question for the game, okay? Just… did you? Do you?’

‘No.’

Benji sits up and drapes the blanket over his lap, fidgeting with the hem. ‘You like Judith though.’

Daryl huffs out a breath of laughter, ‘yeah, cause she’s a Grimes, through and through. I like kids and I love those who don’t have a whiff of Dixon in them.’ He looks at his friend with hooded eyes, ‘and if I ever had a mini green-eyed ankle biter who talks too much and goes gray at sixteen, I’d fuckin’ love them even more, but Dixon DNA? ‘s poison, man. Ain’t nothin’ good ever came out of that mess. Nah,’ he says when Benji opens his mouth, ‘don’t start, the fact that the apocalypse suits me, doesn’t make me _good_. It’s a good thing that line ends with me.’

Benji shakes his head but doesn’t say anything.

‘Come on,’ Daryl stretches, ‘ask your damn question. We’re not playing this game _just because_. What’s eatin’ ya?’

‘I thought I was being very sneaky about my curiosity.’

‘Setting up a game of _ask me anything_ is sneaky in your world? Damn, boy.’

‘Fine,’ Benji laughs. ‘I need to know; your tattoo.’

That earns him an arched eyebrow, ‘which one?’

Pale fingers reach out to trace the black letters on his chest. ‘This one. _Norman_. It’s driving me crazy. First I thought it might have been a grandfather but you never mentioned one, so I figured… And then I thought maybe your dad, but obviously not, now I know you better. Your brother’s name was Merle, so he’s out, I guess… You told me you’d never been with a guy before, so that’s out too. Who’s name is it?’

‘It’s a last name, actually. Her name was Jessye Norman.’

Benji frowns and rubs at his nose, ‘who was she?’

‘A black opera singer.’

‘Yeah right,’ Benji scoffs as he lowers himself again and wraps the blanket around his shoulders, snuggling into the warmth.

Daryl shrugs. ‘I’m serious. We used to have this record of her singing amazing grace. My mom fuckin’ loved her. Used to sing to it all the time. Couldn’t hold a tone for shit, but she’d just belt along with her whenever my daddy weren’t home.’ He plucks at his fingernails and glances at his friend, who’s watching him closely. ‘Always looked happy, you know, when she was singin’ to that song. Voice of an angel, she’d say. Didn’t give two shits about anything when that record played.’ He shrugs again and bites down on his nail. ‘Good times, I guess. Reminds me of that.’

‘I wish I’d heard the record.’

‘Don’t matter anymore,’ Daryl mutters as he buries down into the blankets, worming around until he can throw a leg over his friend’s thighs and rest his head on the same pillow. ‘She’s long gone.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘She made her choice,’ the hunter says as he kisses the bare shoulder. ‘Any more things you wanna know?’

‘Not really. You?’

‘Ever tasted salted caramel?’

‘Yeah, why?’

Daryl shrugs, ‘weird stuff, ain’t it? Shouldn’t taste good, but it does.’

Benji frowns, ‘is this a genuine question or a weird allegory for the fact that you kind of dig the whole gay-sex thing even though you sometimes feel like you shouldn’t like it?’

‘What the hell? No. Real question, good lord.’ Daryl rolls his eyes and then shifts so he can kiss down his friend’s neck. The palm of his hand slides over the strong chest, ‘I made up my mind about the whole gay-sex thing, okay? Jesus.’

‘Doesn’t mean it can’t still feel weird. I’d understand, you know.’

‘Hmm,’ Daryl hums. ‘If I needed a damn shrink, I would have asked for one.’

‘No, you wouldn’t have.’

‘No, I damn well wouldn’t have,’ he kisses down Benji’s sternum. ‘Maybe you should see one. Not everything is a reference to our sex life, okay?’

Benji laughs, ‘wishful thinking.’ His hand sinks into the dark hair of his friend, ‘you’re just going to tease now or you’re going that filthy mouth to some good use?’

Daryl grins against the belly button, ‘maybe.’

‘Hmm. Okay, I remember another question. What initially attracted you to the person you’re currently teasing with kisses that promise a blowjob later?’

‘That wasn’t on no damn card,’ Daryl mumbles as he rests his chin on the other guy’s hipbone and looks up at him.

‘How would you know?’

The hunter grins, ‘fine, wise guy. What initially attracted me to you?’ He thinks about it, ‘dunno. Just… You were nothin’ like how ya were supposed to be, I guess.’

 Benji laughs and lifts himself to his elbow so he can meet his friend’s eye. ‘What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Means ya still laughed every five seconds after ya buried your sister in a damn backyard and lost the rest of your family and friends. I loved that. After all ya been through? Fuck, most would have lost their damn minds a long time ago. Opted out. But there you were; this weird combo of survivor nerd, fuckin’ stronger than ya looked, that’s for sure. Nothin’ I’d ever seen before.’

Long fingers sweep through dark hair. ‘So I’m special, then?’

Daryl frowns. ‘I’m getting ready to suck your dick, of course you’re fuckin’ special, you dumb ass.’

‘First, get up here,’ Benji grabs his shoulder and hauls him up. ‘I love you, you know that, right?’

‘You saying that because I said I’d suck ya?’

‘That just makes me love you a tiny bit more.’

‘A tiny bit, huh?’

Benji nods, ‘teensy tiny bit. I’m a gentleman, you know. I’d love you even if you’d never come near my dick again, but there’s just something about having those sweet lips stretched around my…’

Daryl growls and kisses him deeply, pressing their hips together. The younger man is already hard against his thigh, grinding up to find more friction while Daryl lets his tongue swipe at a lower lip, begging for entrance. He can feel the laughter bubbling up in Benji’s chest.

They part after a couple of seconds.

Green eyes stare up at him. Pale lips and white teeth form a smile. ‘I’m really, _really_ glad I found you, Daryl Dixon.’

Daryl answers the smile with a rare, genuine one of his own. ‘Me too,’ he murmurs before dipping his head low.

 


	12. Things unattempted yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all were the best part of this.
> 
> Thank you.

 

* * *

 

 

They head back to the gas station the next morning, before sunrise.

It’s noon when they take their last break. A water bottle is passed between them while Daryl lounges on the hot asphalt and Benji sits on the bike. Green eyes watch the hunter. He scratches with dirty fingernails at a blood-stain on his jeans.

‘I’m scared.’

The confession causes Daryl to look up at his friend. He squints against the sun and eventually brings up one hand to shield his eyes. ‘Why?’

Benji shrugs. He bites his lip. ‘It’s just… What if it doesn’t work out? When Glenn told us that Maggie is pregnant… I was thinking, maybe…’ He sighs and rubs at his cheek, irritating the scar there. ‘If we’d have stayed in Genesis they would have had a doctor. Ella would have known what to do, you know?’

Daryl sucks on his teeth for a second. ‘We know what to do.’

‘What, because you’ve been through it with Carl and Judith’s mom? She _died_.’

‘Yeah.’  

‘It feels like I’ve condemned Maggie to death.’ Benji looks at him. His shoulders are slumped, there’s sweat dripping down his neck. He looks far smaller than he is.

With a groan, Daryl gets to his feet. He walks over to his friend, stepping between his legs and running a hand through the sweaty, silver hair. Benji closes his eyes and leans forward, resting his forehead against Daryl’s chest.

‘If we’d stayed, maybe Ella could have helped. I could have toughened it out.’

‘Nobody wanted you to.’

‘That’s not the point.’

Daryl sighs softly. ‘Whatever happens, happens. It’s not on you. We’re going to be more prepared now. We know what to expect.’

Benji leans back and looks up at his friend. ‘And we’re expecting her to die.’

Daryl cups his cheek, strokes it with his thumb. ‘No. We’re not losing her.’

‘Promise?’

‘Hmm-hmm,’ Daryl traces that pale lower lip.

‘Tell me something you’re scared off.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I honestly don’t know what you’re scared off,’ Benji answers. ‘And not losing your family either, because that’s the only thing I do know you fear. Something else.’

Daryl thinks about it. Sometimes it’s all he fears; losing the people he loves now. He fears the moment he won’t shoot straight and miss at a crucial moment. That he’ll have to watch how rotting teeth sink into Carol’s shoulder, or how dead hands will rip Rick or Michonne apart. Bullets tearing through Carl’s skull, Judith’s tiny chest crushed beneath a booted heel. He wakes up, eyes wide and heart pounding in his chest at the thought of losing Maggie and Glenn, that he’ll never laugh at Tara’s dry humor and will never be on the receiving end of Rosita’s mean punches again. That he’ll lose Abraham and Eugene, or won’t lay down cover fast enough for Sasha.

He has nightmares about losing Benji.

The younger man cocks his head to the side and studies him.

‘That I’ll be the last man standin’,’ Daryl admits. ‘That’s what Beth said. She predicted I’d be the last man standin’ after all of this.’

‘That’s the same as losing the people you love.’

‘No. It’s the same as bein’ alone. It wouldn’t even matter if y’all were dead or just gone, that’d be the same damn thing to me.’ The hunter looks away. ‘Carol got expelled from the prison, right before it fell. Rick took her on a run and came back without her. I weren’t there neither, was out on another run, he told me when I came back.’

‘She survived out there on her own?’

‘Yeah. Force of nature, that one. I don’t think I could do that; be on my own.’

‘Hmm,’ Benji nods. ‘I’m not sure whether I find that surprising. I mean, you’re good on your own, obviously, but…. I don’t know.’

‘Wouldn’t feel like I’d have a purpose, or some shit like that. What’s the point in bein’ here if you’re just bein’ here? With the group, I got a goal; get them some place safe and then keep them safe, but if it’s just me? I dunno. Wouldn’t see the damn point.’ He squints at Benji. ‘You survived on your own. Seven months.’

‘Yeah. Wasn’t pretty, though. Wasted away the first three months, just hid in a room, ate my rations and slept.’

‘What changed?’

‘I’m eternally hopeful,’ Benji smiles, ‘even when I don’t want to be. One day I woke up and the sun was shining, I could hear the birds outside of the window. It was a beautiful morning. That was the first time I realized; I made it. I’m still here. It settled in a weird sort of determination. Like, I made it this far, might as well fucking rule the apocalypse in my little kingdom then. So I got fit again, kicked my ass into gear. It only took four months,’ he laughs at himself. ‘Push-ups are fucking hard, let me tell you. But hey,’ he flexes his muscles, ‘worked.’

‘It worked,’ Daryl agrees.

‘Maybe that really is the key to this whole thing,’ Benji muses. ‘That you just have to decide that it’s going to work out all right.’

The hunter nods, ‘’s what we’re doin’ with this place, ain’t it? Ain’t nothing there. Four wall and a roof.’

‘Yeah. It’s nothing now and it will be a farm. Our farm. Do you think Rick will take to the idea?’

‘Don’t think he has a choice.’

‘No,’ Benji agrees. ‘Things were getting pretty desperate when we left.’

‘Doubt it has changed.’

The blond slides off the bike and stretches, groaning when his joints pop. ‘Two more minutes and then we’ll hit the road again. We’ll be there before nightfall, right? Do you think it’ll be weird to be around them again? Seven days really seems like a fucking lifetime now.’

Daryl reclaims his spot on the bike, he stretches out on it, head on the handlebars and his boots on Benji’s usual spot. He closes his eyes against the bright sunshine. ‘Think it’ll be good,’ he murmurs as he brings up a hand to gnaw on his thumb. ‘Missed ass-kicker.’

‘You really are the cutest uncle in existence,’ Benji laughs. ‘And yeah, it will be good. I meant more, like, between us.’

One blue eye snaps open and focusses on the silver-haired man. ‘Why?’

‘Because I fear I might have gotten used to our kisses being not so secret anymore.’

Daryl closes his eye again, ‘hmm.’ He listens to how the wind plays with the leaves in the forest nearby, how it rolls over the fields up ahead and crashes over them, white noise, only broken by the sound of Benji’s heavy army boots on the concrete. It’s the only sound in the world at this moment. The wind and his friend.

‘That’s all you’ve got to say? _Hmm_. That’s not even a word, Daryl. Come on, try again.’

‘Done told ya when this all started; ain’t goin’ to hold your damn hand or nothing. Don’t know what you expect to hear.’

‘Me neither,’ Benji admits. He aims a mean kick at a piece of rock.

Daryl opens his eyes again and tilts his head to the side so he can watch how Benji checks his gun. The dog-tags blink in the summer sun. The silver of his hair is dark at the roots and almost white at the tips. Every morning the younger man makes sure that not a strand is out of place, and every evening it’s a wild mop of half-formed curls from the bike-ride and the times he runs his hands through it to get it out of his green eyes.

‘That’s something else I’m scared off,’ Daryl says before he can change his mind.

Benji frowns, ‘what? Me not knowing what I want to hear?’

‘Me not bein’ enough.’

Daryl watches as his answer registers. There are nerves clawing up his spine, tingling along his lungs like smoke. It’s harder to breathe all of a sudden. It’s an unsettling feeling to finally say what he’s been dreading all these months. He feels oddly naked when Benji looks at him. In defiance, he sets his jaw and meets his eye.

A hesitant smile creeps onto Benji’s face. He slowly walks back to the bike. ‘Do you want a sickly sweet answer to that or an honest one?’

‘Honest.’

‘Okay,’ Benji leans his hip against the side of the bike and puts his hand on Daryl’s stomach, resting on top of his flannel shirt. The heat of the sun has soaked into the fabric, now trapped between two sources of body heat. ‘The honest answer is this; I love you, but I’m not going to hide who I am from our family forever. Who _we_ are. And I know it’s all kinds of difficult, with us both not being gay and all,’ he smiles and his fingers tighten against the hunter’s belly, ‘but I’m twenty six, a little too old to be sneaking secret kisses and hoping not to get caught. They don’t care. I don’t care. It’s just you who’s having trouble with it, okay? And I respect that, for now.’

‘But it ain’t goin’ to be enough.’

‘No,’ Benji agrees. ‘That sounds mean, but that’s just how I feel. Why should we hide who we are?’

Daryl bites on this thumb and doesn’t say anything.

‘I’m not going to have my way with you in the middle of the living room,’ Benji smirks, ‘but if I want a hug in broad daylight? Yeah, I kinda feel like that shouldn’t be a big deal. Don’t look so scared. We’ll find the middle ground.’

‘And if we don’t?’

‘No, we _will_ ,’ Benji’s hand rounds to his side, stroking the soft, warm flannel. ‘That’s something else we decide, okay? Right here, right now. It’s going to be us, together, until death do us part.’

‘Thought we weren’t goin’ to get married?’

‘We’re not,’ Benji grins as he leans down and nudges Daryl’s nose with his own. ‘But you’re still not getting rid of me, all right?’

Daryl tilts his head and kisses his lover. ‘A’right.’

 

It’s getting dark when Daryl makes the last turn towards the gas station. He revs the engine once to let their family know it’s only them, returning. Benji is a trembling mess of excitement on the back of the bike, his nails digging into Daryl’s hips. He keeps trying to stand up on the small pegs his feet rest on, but the hunter reaches back and pushes him into the seat again, slapping his knee in a scolding.

There’s a small fire going on at the back of the gas station. They can see the soft light spilling into the woods beyond.

Sasha is on guard duty at the roadside. Her face lights up when she sees them.

The bike rolls to a smooth stop. Benji jumps off before they’ve come to a complete stand-still. He is engulfed in a tight hug the moment his boots hit the asphalt.

‘Hey girl,’ he greets, hugging Sasha back. ‘Are you all okay?’

‘Yeah, we’re good,’ she nods into his neck. ‘Really glad that you’re both back in one piece.’ She steps back and puts a hand on his face, rubbing circles into his cheek, the thumb brushing over the scar without any hesitation.

Daryl parks the bike and glides off it. The rest of their family rounds the building, eagerness on all of their faces.

‘ _Ben_!’

‘ _Rose_!’

The two best friends run towards each other and collide half-way. Rosita jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as he twirls her around, holding her up easily. Their laughter has a tinge of desperation to it.

Daryl shoulders his bow and walks over towards Carol, who is watching him closely. He glances at his friend, who now buries his face in the girl’s neck, breathing her in. ‘’s like Romeo and Juliet up in this place, good lord,’ he say to her.

Carol laughs and walks over to meet him. Her arms loop around his neck, bringing him in for a hug too. ‘Welcome back.’

‘Thanks,’ he murmurs. When he pulls back, Rick is there with one of his handshakes which transforms into a one-armed hug.

‘Good to see you, brother.’

‘Yeah,’ the hunter nods. ‘We found some food.’

‘Thank God,’ Carol breathes as she takes the heavy bag from him and starts to go through the contents. ‘It’ll last us a couple of days.’

Daryl holds on to the strap of his bow and eyes their leader. ‘There are a couple more bags up in some trees down the way, we couldn’t carry all of it in one go.’

Rick looks at him questioningly and then realization settles into his features. His shoulder slump with something that can only be relief. ‘You found a place.’

‘Benji did. It’s an abandoned farm about a day from here with the car. We didn’t get too close, but it looks a’right. Ain’t nothing much around it, the way there is all grown over and shit, ya can’t see it from the main road. There’s this garden center nearby, got a precast plant attached to it. Concrete,’ he explains when Rick frowns. ‘Got these big-ass molds, steel to reinforce it.’ He brings his hand up to bite on his nail. ‘Could build a wall.’

‘Sounds like a lot of work.’

Daryl nods. ‘Will be.’

Rick glances at Carol.

She shrugs. ‘We’re not going to run into anything like the prison around here. There’s just nothing left.’

Rick agrees with a terse nod, ‘yeah, we could check it out. Maybe stay there for a couple of days, decide where to go from there.’

Daryl shakes his head. ‘No, man. We gotta decide now. We’re runnin’ out of options.’

‘And what do you suggest we do?’ The former sheriff asks. Sharp blue eyes pierce the hunter.

‘Go to that place,’ Daryl says firmly. He doesn’t break the eye contact. ‘Build that fuckin’ wall if we can. Get that place rigged up good, get the farm runnin’, and make something of it.’

Rick thinks that over. He shifts his weight and puts his hands on his hips, lips pursed in thought. His gaze slides over to Benji, who is now being greeted by Carl. The teenager jumps onto the back of the silver-haired man, clutching to his neck while Benji talks to Michonne, who is holding Judith. Thin legs wrap around the man’s waist and Benji hitches him higher without any effort, giving the boy a wide smile in greeting.

A smile starts to form on the sheriff’s face. ‘That’s what you think, huh?’

‘Yeah,’ Daryl wipes his nose on the back of his hand. ‘That’s what I think.’

Rick looks at him. He clasps his brother on the shoulder, squeezing tightly. ‘Okay. Then that’s what we’ll do.’ He walks over to Michonne to collect his daughter and greet Benji while ordering Carl to get off of him. He herds his family over to the campfire, where Maggie, Glenn, Eugene and Abraham are waiting for them with a hot meal.

Benji veers off to join Daryl and Carol, taking the heavy bag from the woman and swinging it over his shoulder. She thanks him before leading them over. ‘What did he say?’ Benji asks eagerly, with just a hint of concern tainting the words. ‘Did you tell him about the farm?’

‘Yeah, I told him.’

‘ _And_?’

Daryl looks at his friend. He smiles. ‘He decided.’

 

Of course, it’s not that easy.

But it does work and that’s all that matters now.

 

It’s one month later when Daryl pulls up to the farm in their pick-up truck. The sun is high in the sky, sweat is dripping down his neck as he throw the door open and hops out, slamming the door behind him. Abraham jumps out of the back and starts to unload the boxes with Eugene.

‘Ya got it?’ Daryl asks as he throws his bow onto his back.

‘We got it,’ Abraham nods. ‘You tell Rick we’ll get that power grid running now.’

‘A’right.’ The hunter turns on his heels and heads over towards the farm. The outside hasn’t changed much over the past month. The paint is still coming off the walls and one of the windows is cracked, but none of that matters. His gaze sweeps over the land. At the edge of the forest, far in the distance, there’s a wall.

Concrete rigged up by steel fixtures, a mixture of the prison gates and the wall of Genesis. It isn’t complete yet. One month hasn’t been enough time, but they’re getting there.

He spots a group of theirs near the gap in the wall, getting ready to expand it once again.

He changes his direction and heads over.

It’s Carol, Carl, Rick and Benji. The two men are shoveling gravel into a mixer while the teenager is pushing a wheelbarrow filled to the brim with sand. It wobbles dangerously. Daryl quickly darts over and grabs the barrow, gently shoving the boy aside.

‘I got it, kid,’ he murmurs.

‘Thanks,’ Carl pants. ‘Bit heavier than I thought,’ he admits sheepishly.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Daryl pushes the barrow over to where Rick is now leaning on his shovel.

Their leader is drenched with sweat. The dark curls are plastered to his forehead but he grins when he sees his best friend approaching with his son. He’s not wearing a shirt and has thrown his heavy gun belt in the grass next to Carol, who is keeping watch.

‘Hey, brother,’ Rick greets the hunter as he puts the barrow down next to him. ‘Found what you were looking for?’

‘Hmm-hmm. They’re unloadin’. Eugene says he can get the grit workin’ now.’

‘That’d be amazing.’

‘Yeah. We’ll see.’ Daryl’s gaze wanders to Benji, who is walking over. He isn’t wearing a shirt either. The bronzed skin glistens with sweat as he brings a hand up to wipe his damp hair out of his eyes. The jeans dip low at the front, barely clinging to his slim waist, and Daryl can’t help but follow the lines of the delicious V leading down to his belt buckle. The younger man smirks devilishly. He knows exactly how good he looks.

‘Hello, Daryl,’ he tries to greet nonchalantly. With a teasing smile he lifts the shovel and places it over the back of his neck and shoulders, stretching out and flexing his muscles.

The hunter rolls his eyes.

Benji snorts and throws the shovel onto the ground, ‘are you okay?’

‘Yeah, you?’

‘Yeah,’ Benji flashes him a smile as he walks over to Carol to grab one of the water bottles. ‘Carol’s been keeping an eye on me.’

‘Good, ya need it.’ Daryl tells him before turning to his brother. ‘Need a hand?’

‘That’d be great,’ Rick nods. ‘Carl, take a break with Carol, okay? Drink something, it’s hot out.’

The teenager nods and joins Carol and Benji in the shade. The hunter follows him and puts his bow against a tree before throwing his pack down next to it. He puts one hand up to shield his eyes and lets his gaze glide over their lands. Glenn and Maggie are working with Tara on one of the fields. The first crops are popping out of the earth, promising a good first harvest. The rest of the planted fruits and vegetables will take longer to grow but it’s a good start.

There’s a small pen with chickens Michonne had found on one of her runs, which means they have a steady supply of fresh eggs. Daryl thanks the Lord that he doesn’t have to eat powdered eggs in the foreseeable future.

Sasha is up on the rooftop. The scope of her sniper riffle flashes in the sunshine.

Michonne is doing the laundry at the house. There’s a line between one of the post of the porch and a nearby tree. White sheets and dark jeans flap in the wind while she checks whether they’re dry. Judith dances around her, stumbling in her excitement and no doubt talking a mile a minute in her strange toddler-language.

Daryl smiles and lowers his hand. All’s good. He looks at Rick, who is watching him in return, a soft smile on his features.

‘Let’s power through this,’ the former sheriff nods at the pile of sand and the buckets of water near him. ‘Mix it up, cast it so it can harden over the next couple of days. We’re getting close.’ He gestures at the gap between the two end of the wall. ‘That gate is good work, by the way.’

‘Thanks,’ Daryl nod as he looks at the gate near the house. Heavy sheets of metal which glide in between each other whenever it’s opened. ‘Was one tough son-of-a-bitch to make. Sasha helped with the weldin’, me and Abe rigged it up. Had to use the damn car, can’t lift that, weighs a fuckin’ ton and then some.’

‘It’s good,’ Rick says again. ‘The gate, this place, all of it.’ He leans on his shovel. ‘You were right.’

‘Was Benji’s idea.’

The younger man salutes their leader as he gulps the water down. ‘You’re welcome. I just couldn’t camp one more night. It was driving me up the wall, so I figured; might as well find a farm that’s got fertile ground, is well hidden and got building supplies nearby, you know. That’s just what I do.’

Rick snorts and Daryl rolls his eyes.

Benji looks at Carol, ‘I found fucking Eden for them and this is what I get! Scorn and mockery. Great.’

‘Yes, they’re mean and you’re the best,’ Carol says absent-mindedly as she pats his boot.

‘Thank you, Carol,’ the silver-haired man groans, ‘now once more with sincerity.’

She laughs and looks up at him. ‘I love you, cutie.’

Benji grins and leans down to kiss her forehead, ‘I love you too.’

The woman pushes him away and screws up her nose, ‘don’t come so close when you’re so sweaty. God, you smell.’

‘Well, that romance was short-lived,’ the young man laughs as he lets himself fall into the tall grass. ‘Carl, you love me, right?’

‘Sure,’ the teenager dismisses with a wave of his hand. ‘Hey, Daryl, can I practice loading your bow? I want to be able to do it just as fast as you!’

Daryl scoffs but gestures to his pack, ‘sure, go on. The rope’s in my bag.’

‘You always use your hands,’ Carl argues. ‘Can I do it like that too?’

‘No,’ Daryl answers because he knows it hurts to load it with bare hands. ‘Use the rope or you’ll fuck the arms up. Rope or nothing,’ he says sternly when Carl opens his mouth to argue some more. ‘Take it or leave it.’

After a quick look at his father, Carl grins and scoots over to the hunter’s pack to find the rope. ‘I’ll take it. Thanks.’

‘Mind your fingers and no dry firing. Keep your foot on the peg,’ Daryl reminds him, ‘pull back evenly.’

‘Or I’ll fuck up the arms, yeah, I remember.’

‘Ya better.’ He watches how the boy rummages through his stuff until he finds the cocking rope. Then he turns back to Rick, who’s started shoveling again. He hesitates for a moment.

It’s hot. His flannel shirt is already soaked from the drive over here in the stuffy cabin of the pick-up truck and it sticks uncomfortably to his skin. He takes a deep breath and decides.

The vest is draped over his pack. His fingers fumble a little with the small buttons of his shirt but eventually he rolls his shoulders and catches it in his hands. He tosses it into the grass next to his stuff.

Rick’s gaze burns on his back.

Carol turns, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Even Carl’s head swivels to look.

None of them has ever seen him take his shirt off.

He shivers uncomfortably.

‘Do you think there are still cows?’ Benji asks as he stretches. The eyes of their friends snap to him and Daryl relaxes a little. ‘I mean, they’re pretty slow right? So they probably got eaten. Wouldn’t that be the weirdest thing? A world without cows.’

‘The dead walkin’ and ya bitch about cows?’ Daryl asks as he walks over to grab a shovel.

‘I’m not even bitching! I’m just asking, oh great hunter and great farmer, do you guys think there are still cows out there?’

‘I hope so,’ Rick mutters as he drives his shovel into the sand.

‘The fuck does it matter?’ Daryl asks with a frown as he gets to work.

‘It doesn’t.’

He looks up at Benji, who is leaning back on his elbows and looking right back at him. They both know he didn’t start to conversation because he actually cares about whether there are still any cows left. The hunter flashes him a quick, grateful smile.

Benji winks at him.

 

They celebrate the completion of the wall by busting open the bottle of scotch Daryl had found in the precast office. Maggie, Judith and Eugene are the only ones who aren’t drinking. Daryl is sitting on the porch with Glenn, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth and a couple of cards in his hands.

His friend takes a large gulp of scotch before laying down another card, frowning a little.

‘Sure about that, Korea?’

Glenn squints up at him, ‘just play the next card, red-neck.’

Daryl grins around his cigarette, ‘fine by me. Thought I’d give ya a fair shot, but this is just too easy. Here,’ he throws his cards down.

Glenn groans. ‘What? That’s impossible! That card’s already been played!’

‘Ya callin’ me a damn cheat?’ Daryl frowns.

Maggie passes the both of them with Judith on her hip. She brushes the hunter’s hair out of his eyes before leaning down to kiss her husband. ‘I’m going to put Judy to bed and get some sleep, okay?’

‘Are you feeling okay?’ Glenn asks worriedly.

‘I’m fine, just tired.’ She hitches the toddler higher so the small legs don’t bump into her belly. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight,’ Glenn smiles, grabbing her hand and kissing it.

‘Oh,’ Maggie looks over her shoulder, ‘and Daryl? Everyone knows you cheat.’

‘Rat,’ Daryl accuses with a grin as he snatches the bottle from Glenn and glides off the porch to evade his wrath. ‘Night Maggie.’ He walks over to where the group is lounging around the campfire. There’s a slight buzz in his veins from the alcohol. He drops the bottle in Tara’s waiting hands and looks around the circle.

Benji is sitting between Rick and Abraham. The youngest is telling an animated story while the two older men share smirks behind his back. At the end, Benji gives Rick, who’d been pulling a face, a good-natured shove and their leader laugh loudly, clapping the silver-haired man on the shoulder.

Daryl’s gaze sweeps over the rest of his family. He resists the urge to bite his thumb as he carefully steps over Michonne’s long legs in order to cross to his brother and friends. ‘They teasin’ ya?’ He asks Benji.

‘Always.’ The younger man beams up at him, green eyes sparkling in the light of the bonfire.

‘Split,’ Daryl kicks at the heavy army boots.

Benji’s eyebrows shoot up but he parts his legs. Daryl turns around and sits down, leaning back against his friend’s chest. There’s a fierce blush rising from his chest to his neck and ears, but he hopes it’s dark enough so the others won’t see. He puts his elbow on Benji’s knee and plucks with his fingers at his lower lip nervously.

‘Kicked Glenn’s ass at cards again, Daryl?’ Abraham asks without missing a beat.

‘’course.’

‘Three night watches Merle taught you how to cheat,’ Rick wagers.

Daryl scoffs. ‘’course he did. Dixon’s don’t lose.’

Carl looks over from where he’d been poking the fire with a long stick. ‘Can you teach me how to cheat at cards?’

Rick clips Daryl over the back of his head, ‘stop spoiling my boy with those Dixon antics, man!’

‘Hands off, Grimes,’ Benji growls playfully as he wraps his arms around Daryl protectively, hugging him closer to his chest. The hunter relaxes into his touch.

‘Oh, you got your _boyfriend_ defending you now?’ Rick laughs.

Daryl tenses.

‘Don’t pretend Michonne doesn’t draw her katana whenever someone looks at you wrong,’ Benji leers. ‘You got your girlfr-‘

‘Shut up,’ Rick kicks his boot, ‘I was just joking.’

‘I wasn’t.’

Rick looks at him, a little surprised, maybe. His gaze snaps to Michonne, who is talking to Carol.

‘Yeah,’ Benji rests his chin on the top of Daryl’s head, ‘you think about that, Rick.’

Daryl isn’t sure what’s going on but he doesn’t really care. He listens to the stories his family members tell. About the CDC and how they got drunk. Rick and Carol imitate Glenn’s pathetic groans while the Korea flips them off and shifts the focus to Daryl by grabbing the bottle and claiming he wants to get shit-faced drunk again.

Daryl flips their roles easily by reminding the Korean of his first run with Maggie, which has the younger man blushing fiercely.

‘You’re one to talk,’ Michonne accuses with a laugh. She leans over to catch Rick’s eye, ‘what was their excuse again? What did Ben say at the library before they went on that run together? _I got to show Daryl something_?’

Rick barks out a laugh, ‘yeah! Real smooth,’ he raises a bottle at Benji who groans in mortification. ‘He had to show Daryl something on the other side of town,’ he tells Carol, who looks surprised. ‘You know, _real_ secret stuff so we didn’t have to join them.’

‘We weren’t – oh my God, I’m not even going to defend myself,’ Benji laughs as he hides his face behind his hands. ‘This is terrible.’

‘Remember the time I almost caught you two making out in a closet?’ Carol asks dryly and Michonne sprays her drinks all over herself.

‘ _What_?’ she chokes out, ‘I missed that? How? When? Where?’

‘Fuck you all,’ Benji groans as he hides his face in Daryl’s neck. The hunter smirk and reaches up to run a soothing hand through the soft silver hair.

‘We actually did caught them once, remember Glenn?’ Michonne laughs, ‘out in the forest that one time when-’

‘ _Don’t_ remind me,’ Glenn moans while waving a hand at his friend to shut her up.

‘You know,’ Tara shakes her head, ‘it’s a sad world when only _Daryl Dixon_ is getting some action.’

‘Hey,’ Daryl aims a kick at her feet, ‘what’s that supposed to mean, girly? And Glenn’s been gettin’ his dick wet because of the damn apocalypse. Knocked his girl up too, so I ain’t the only one…’

‘Carl!’ Rick barks as he gets to his feet. ‘Time to go to bed now.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ the teenager moans, ‘dad, what the hell? I haven’t had a bed time in years!’

‘Yeah, and we’re picking that back up right now,’ Rick laughs as he pushes his son towards the house. ‘You’re not listening to this filth. Tomorrow I’ll make you do your homework.’

‘Mom made me do my homework,’ Carl groans, ‘remember that? Whole world gone to shit and she made me do sums!’

‘She wanted what was best for you,’ Rick tells him as he kisses his son’s dark hair.

‘I know, dad,’ Carl smiles as he ducks to the side so he can give Michonne a quick hug. ‘Night Michonne. Still,’ he picks the argument back up as Rick drapes his arm over his shoulders, ‘it was pretty stupid. At Genesis they tried to make me learn all the countries, how stupid is _that_? Like we’re ever going anywhere else.’

‘Did you learn all the American states?’

‘Dad, I knew the states before this all started. Are you kidding me?’

Their discussion fades when they enter the house.

The night grows darker while the rest of the group talks about their shared history, occasionally poking fun of each other but mostly just reminiscing the rare good times they’ve had together. Benji, who hasn’t been there for most of the ride, just listens intently to the stories of how they all met. Daryl is still leaning back against his chest, finger plucking at the army boots Charlotte had gotten him before she died.

Eventually, people start to turn in. First Rosita, then Carol and Abraham, Tara leaves to relieve Eugene from his watch duty. Then Michonne, until it’s just Daryl and Benji at the campfire. They don’t speak for a very long time.

Daryl’s glad. While he might enjoy his family’s company more than he had ever thought possible, it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t find these social situations exhausting. He listens to the snapping of the fire and relishes the white noise.

When it gets too cold, Benji kisses his ear. ‘Let’s get inside.’

Daryl nods and climbs to his feet. He puts the fire out by kicking sand over it, checking and double checking it before he follows Benji up to the porch.

The younger man holds open the door for him and pretends to bat his eyelashes. ‘So, thank you for walking me home. Want to come in for a cup of coffee?’

Daryl laughs and pushes Benjamin’s shoulder playfully as they walk into the large living room. He shakes his hair out of his face, brushing it back. A noise from the couch attracts his attention.

Rick and Michonne are sitting on the couch. Well, Michonne is on her back, staring up at the former cop with a smile on her face and Rick is sitting across her thighs, leaning in for a kiss. Their lips find each other easily.

‘Good lord,’ Daryl says, ‘when the fuck did that happen?’

Benjamin grabs his hand and drags him along, ‘come on, let’s not disturb them and go upstairs so we can go over the thousand ways you could have seen this coming. Carry on, don’t mind us.’

‘You saw this comin’?’

‘Yup, and stay right there and you’re going to see other things coming. No. That was a terrible joke, don’t laugh! _Stop laughing_!’

Daryl snorts despite himself.

‘Get gone, brother,’ Rick growls, glancing over his shoulder.

‘A’right, a’right,’ Daryl nods as he lets his friend drag him towards the staircase.

Benji freezes on the lower step. He slowly turns back towards the couch. ‘Oh my God, this _is_ precious. Next family meeting; Daryl, remember how we caught Michonne and Rick making out on our couch?’

‘Hmm,’ the hunter nods, ‘like two horny teenagers, tellin’ us to get gone or-‘

Rick leans down to grab one of his boots from the floor and throws it towards the staircase. ‘Fuck off!’

Benji laughs and runs up the stairs, Daryl hot on his heels.

 

They’re chuckling by the time they make it to the attic, to the little library tucked away there. The couch has been shoved aside and replaced by an actual bed they found in a house near the gas station. Daryl throws his stuff into the corner and strips down to his underwear before falling into bed.

‘That was a great night,’ Benji sighs as he stretches and starts to undress too, much slower than the hunter. He folds his clothes and puts them in neat piles on the couch.

‘Yeah,’ Daryl agrees. He rolls over to his back and watches how Benji gets ready to brush his teeth. With a groan, and after a pointedly arched eyebrow, he gets out of bed again, pads over to the sink and brushes his own teeth too.

‘Good boy,’ Benji praises when he’s done, even though he finishes way before the younger man.

Daryl crawls back into bed. He leans against the pillows and waits for his friend to join him.

‘Did you ever think it would be like this again?’ Benji asks as he hops in and pulls the blanket over his shoulder before settling down beside the hunter.

‘Weren’t ever like this before, so no.’

‘What, with me, you mean? Or it wasn’t like this with your million girlfriends?’ his friend teases with a sly smile.

‘Weren’t like this, ever,’ Daryl murmurs. He presses a kiss to Benji’s forehead.

‘Daryl Dixon,’ Benji muses, ‘owner of a secret dog, lover of the one who never had a cubicle, and host of future fourth of July barbeques.’

‘Thought we’d upgraded to farm, sex ‘nd pillow talk?’

‘That too.’ Benji leans over and traces his jaw with his fingers. Their breath on each other’s lips. He smiles and Daryl does too. ‘In short; Daryl Dixon in a rock-steady relationship with an overly talkative guy. Or as John Milton famously put it; _things unattempted yet, in prose or rhyme_.’

 

 


End file.
